in  Search  of 
A  Father 


Illustrated 
H.M.Brock 


HHI 

HIM 


LIBRARY 

OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA. 

GIFT    OF 

- 


-*-    - 

•:^ 


CAPTAIN  MARRYAT, 


X'VK^  ^  ^~" 
PJLJJ+. 

'Asked  me  whether  the  spirit  did  not  move  me  to  get  down.'  —  P.  336. 


JAPHET 


IN   SEARCH    OF   A   FATHER 


BY 


CAPTAIN    MARRYAT 


ILLUSTRATED    BY    HENRY   M.    BROCK 
WITH   AN   INTRODUCTION   BY   DAVID    HANNAY 


MACMILLAN    AND    CO. 

AND    LONDON 
1895 


'•  //>/•  **• "-'  >/ 


COPYRIGHT,  1895, 
BY  MACMILLAN  AND  CO. 


J.  S.  Gushing  &  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


773 


INTRODUCTION 


WE  may  sometimes  hear  it  said  that  the  boys  of  this  gener- 
ation do  not  enjoy  Marry  at.  There  is  a  similar  report  that 
they  no  longer  take  pleasure  in  Scott,  Dumas,  or  Robinson 
Crusoe.  If  the  report  is  to  be  believed  the  only  comment 
to  be  made  upon  it  is,  so  much  the  worse  for  the  boys  of 
this  generation,  and  so  much  the  worse  for  them,  too,  when 
they  grow  to  be  men.  They  are  depriving  themselves  of  a 
great  future  pleasure,  for  there  are  few  better  ways  of  con- 
tinuing to  enjoy  something  of  one's  youth  than  to  be  able 
to  return  to  what  one  delighted  in,  while  it  lasted,  with  the 
same  feelings.  This  repetition  of  a  very  old  observation  is 
not  made  with  any  hope  of  persuading  the  boys  of  to-day  to 
be  wise  enough  to  enjoy  what  is  for  their  good  as  well  as 
their  pleasure.  The  lad  who  does  not  like  Marryat,  Dumas, 
Defoe,  or  Scott  of  his  own  free  will  and  mere  notion,  will 
not  be  talked  into  wisdom,  and  must  be  left  to  his  fate. 
For  Marryat' s  sake,  however,  it  is  to  be  hoped  that  the  story 
is  not  true.  He  did  not  until  towards  the  end  of  his  life 
write  expressly  for  the  young,  though  when  he  did  he  pro- 
duced in  Masterman  Ready  one  of  the  best  of  his  works; 
but  there  is  this  amount  of  truth  in  the  mistaken  estimate 
which  classes  him  among  the  writers  of  boys'  books,  that  he 
is  best  enjoyed  by  those  who  had  the  good  fortune  to  begin 

vii 
j,->  «    *  \^>  f^  f\ 

4'    i    NC    „'    O  O 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

all  but  cut  short  at  the  very  beginning.  The  Imperieuse, 
having  been  ordered  to  sea  by  a  too  impatient  Port-Admiral 
before  her  stores  were  properly  stowed,  was  driven  in  a  gale 
on  the  rocks  round  Ushant,  and  only  escaped  total  ship- 
wreck by  a  miracle  of  luck.  From  1806  to  1809  she  was 
continually  on  the  move  from  the  eastern  end  of  the 
Pyrenees  round  to  the  Basque  Roads,  except  for  intervals 
during  which  her  captain,  who  was  a  member  of  Parliament, 
was  attending  to  his  duties  in  the  House  of  Commons. 
When  at  sea  Cochrane  was  one  of  the  most  indefatigable  of 
officers,  and,  moreover,  a  master  of  all  the  minor  operations 
of  naval  warfare.  The  crew  of  the  Imperieuse  was  never 
idle.  There  were  few  French  warships  at  sea  to  fight,  but 
the  privateers  gave  abundant  occasion  for  cutting  out 
expeditions.  When  the  Peninsular  War  began  in  1808  this 
work  was  varied  by  landing  parties  on  the  Mediterranean 
coast  of  Spain  to  harass  the  French  troops  on  the  march, 
or  help  in  the  defence  of  Spanish  posts.  The  attack  on  the 
French  ships  in  the  Basque  Roads  in  April  1809  ended 
Cochrane' s  command  of  the  Imperieuse,  as  he  broke  his 
career  as  a  naval  officer  in  the  English  service  by  insisting 
upon  bringing  his  admiral  to  a  court  martial.  Marryat's 
novels  show  that  he  had  been  profoundly  influenced  by  the 
strongly- marked  character  of  the  very  able  man  under  whom 
he  had  the  good  fortune  to  serve  for  nearly  three  years. 
He  remained  in  the  Imperieuse  until  he  was  invalided, 
together  with  a  multitude  of  others,  sailors  and  soldiers, 
officers  and  men,  by  marsh  fever  in  the  unhappy  Walcheren 
expedition. 

In  1812  he  was  promoted  to  the  rank  of  lieutenant. 
During  the  two  years  preceding  his  promotion  he  served  in 
the  Centaur,  Sir  Samuel  Hood's  flagship  in  the  Mediter- 
ranean, and  then  in  the  dLolus  and  the  Spartan  in  the  West 

x 


INTRODUCTION 

Indies.  In  1813  he  returned  to  the  same  station  as 
lieutenant  of  the  Espiegle  sloop,  but  was  invalided  home  in 
consequence  of  the  breaking  of  a  blood-vessel.  It  was  an 
accident  to  which  he  was  liable  owing  to  some  constitutional 
weakness.  The  following  year,  however,  saw  him  in  active 
service  on  the  North  American  station  as  lieutenant  of  the 
Newcastle,  which  was  engaged  in  chasing  American  cruisers 
to  no  great  purpose.  Marryat  has  recorded  in  his  pamphlet 
on  the  Press,  that  she  was  not  less  than  one  hundred  men 
short  of  her  proper  complement,  because  the  crew  deserted 
in  detachments.  His  experience  in  this  vessel  made  him 
an  enemy  of  the  system  of  impressment,  and  in  1822  he 
thought  out  a  plan  for  replacing  it  by  a  species  of  modified 
conscription.  The  pamphlet  is  said,  though  not  on  very  good 
authority,  to  have  offended  William  IV.  It  is  not  without 
interest  to  the  student  of  naval  history,  though  the  scheme  it 
contains  was  never  seriously  considered.  With  a  very  obvious 
inconsistency  Marryat,  who  begins  by  laying  it  down  as  an 
undeniable  proposition,  that  what  made  service  in  the  navy 
repugnant  to  the  seamen  was  the  fact  that  they  were 
compelled  to  enter,  recommends  the  replacing  of  one 
system  of  compulsion  by  another.  He  proposed  to  exempt 
all  apprentices  from  the  Press  during  seven  years  instead  of 
the  three  for  which  they  had  hitherto  been  protected,  and 
in  return  to  make  them  all  liable  to  seven  years'  service  in 
the  navy.  The  abolition  of  compulsory  apprenticeship  in 
the  merchant  service  has  deprived  Marryat' s  plan  of 
whatever  practical  value  it  ever  had.  We  have  not  yet 
solved  the  problem  he  discussed,  which  is  this — How  is 
the  country  to  obtain,  when  war  breaks  out,  the  great  num- 
ber of  men  who  will  be  required  to  put  the  navy  on  a  war 
footing,  and  keep  it  there?  The  brutal  and  unjust,  but 
withal  effective  power  to  impress,  is  lost  in  fact,  though  not 

xi 


JAPHET,    IN    SEARCH    OF    A    FATHER 

sum  of  ^400.  The  faith  of  Colburn,  the  adventurous 
publisher  who  paid  this  large  price  for  a  first  novel, 
was  well  rewarded.  The  Naval  Officer,  though  it  is  now 
probably  the  least  popular,  except  the  Privateersman,  of  all 
Marryat's  sea  stories,  was  at  the  time  a  great  success.  The 
matter  was  new,  the  form  full  of  spirit.  The  novelty  and 
the  vivacity  served  to  carry  off  what  was  disagreeable  in  the 
book,  the  somewhat  callous  character  of  the  hero,  and  the 
more  than  somewhat  grimy  nature  of  his  adventures  in  love. 
The  Naval  Officer  appeared  in  1829,  and  its  popularity 
made  the  publishers  eager  for  more.  Marryat  had  written 
the  King's  Own,  which,  curiously  enough,  has  a  rather  more 
artful  plot  than  his  other  stories,  before  the  Naval  Officer. 
It  appeared  in  1830.  In  this  year  he  obtained  possession 
of  an  estate  in  Langham  in  Norfolk,  close  to  Wells-next- 
the-Sea,  in  exchange,  for  Sussex  House,  Hammersmith. 
How  this  property  came  into  his  possession  we  are  not  told. 
From  the  pecuniary  point  of  view  the  bargain  was  a  very 
bad  one,  for  his  thousand  acres  of  land  at  Langham  proved 
to  be  nothing  but  an  incessant  cause  of  expense  to  Marryat. 
It  is  clear,  indeed,  that  he  never  was  prudent  in  money 
matters.  He  not  only  liked  to  live  largely,  but  he  had  a 
mania  for  speculations,  and  he  once  stood  for  Parliament. 
The  fall  in  the  value  of  West  Indian  property,  in  which  his 
father's  fortune  was  largely  if  not  wholly  invested,  may  have 
done  much  to  embarrass  him;  but  we  have  his  own  word 
for  it  that  he  had  run  through  two  fortunes,  and  the  con- 
fession makes  it  impossible  to  throw  the  whole  responsibility 
for  his  want  of  money  on  Free  Trade  and  the  Emancipa- 
tion of  the  Slaves. 

From  the  time  that  he  began  to  write  he  certainly  worked 
like  a  man  to  whom  literature  was  crutch  and  not  staff. 
Newton  Forster  followed  the  King's  Own  in  1832.  Peter 

xiv 


INTRODUCTION 

Simple  and  Jacob  Faithful  belong  to  1834.  The  Pacha  of 
Many  Tales  came  next  in  1835.  No  less  than  four  works, 
namely,  Mr.  Midshipman  Easy,  Japhet,  The  Pirate,  and 
the  Three  Cutters  (these  last  two  being  published  together), 
appeared  in  1836.  In  1837  came  Snarky-yow.  Some 
doubt  still  exists  as  to  how  far  he  can  be  said  to  be  the 
author  of  Rattlin  the  Reefer,  which  belongs  to  1838.  To 
say  that  it  is  Marryat's  is  an  action  which  never  fails  to 
excite  angry  contradiction  from  those  who  are  interested  in 
the  reputation  of  Mr.  Howard.  Marryat  never  claimed  it; 
nor  do  I  think  that  internal  evidence  goes  to  show  that  it 
can  have  been  his  in  groundwork  and  general  spirit.  On 
the  other  hand,  this  same  test  of  internal  evidence  will,  I  am 
confident,  convince  any  one  who  has  read,  or  attempted  to 
read,  either  Jack  Ashore  or  The  Old  Commodore,  of  which 
no  man  has  ever  attempted  to  deprive  Mr.  Howard,  that 
Rattlin  the  Reefer  profited  most  materially  by  its  author's 
conversations  with  Captain  Marryat.  To  resume  the  list  of 
his  undoubted  works  with  their  dates  of  publication.  The 
PJiantom  Ship  belongs  to  1839,  and  the  Diary  in  America 
to  the  same  year;  Olla  Podrida  (a  collection  of  short  articles 
and  stories)  and  Poor  Jack  to  1840,  Master  man  Ready  and 
the  Poacher  to  1844,  Percival  Keene  to  1842,  Monsieur 
Violet  to  1843,  tne  Settlers  in  Canada  to  1844,  The  Mission 
to  1845,  tne  Privateersman  to  1846,  the  Children  of  the 
New  Forest  to  1847.  The  Little  Savage  and  Valerie,  which 
were  neither  wholly  his,  appeared  after  his  death  in  1848. 
This  makes  a  list  of  twenty-four  books,  of  which  twenty-two 
were  certainly  entirely  written  by  him  in  less  than  twenty 
years.  Nor  was  this  the  whole  of  his  work,  for  during  three 
years  (1832-1835)  he  edited  the  Metropolitan  Magazine, 
of  which  he  was  part  proprietor.  The  time  which  he  could 
devote  to  literature  was,  to  some  extent  at  least,  limited  by 

xv 


JAPHET,    IN    SEARCH    OF    A    FATHER 

the  restlessness  of  his  life.  Until  his  last  years,  which  were 
spent  at  Langham,  he  was  always  on  the  move — from  London 
to  Norfolk,  and  thence  to  Brighton;  then  abroad,  apparently 
under  the  sudden  pressure  of  some  necessity  in  1836;  then 
in  1837  and  1838  to  the  United  States,  to  accumulate 
materials  for  a  book.  Even  after  his  return  from  America 
it  was  not  till  1843  that  he  settled  at  Langham,  where  he 
remained,  with  occasional  brief  absences  on  business,  or 
in  search  of  medical  advice  and  health  till  his  death  on 
the  8th  August  1848. 

Little  is  to  be  learnt  of  his  life  during  these  years.  Mrs. 
Church's  biography  of  his  father  gives  hints  of  family 
miseries  which  she  has  very  properly  not  chosen  to  make 
public.  At  the  end  Marryat  speaks  of  himself  as  writing 
till  his  eyes  were  as  small  as  a  mole's  for  money.  Langham 
returned  him  nothing,  and  his  efforts  to  turn  it  into  a 
profitable  property  by  experiments,  mostly  of  a  very  wild 
order,  uniformly  ended  in  loss.  In  1847  he  applied  for  a 
command,  and  when  his  application  was  declined  by  the 
Admiralty  the  irritation  caused  by  his  failure  threw  Marryat 
into  a  fit  of  rage  by  which  he  broke  a  blood-vessel.  While 
weakened  by  this  repetition  of  an  accident  from  which  he 
had  suffered  before,  he  heard  of  the  death  of  his  eldest 
son  Frederick,  a  lieutenant  in  the  navy,  who  was  lost  in  the 
terrible  shipwreck  of  the  Avenger  on  the  23rd  December 
1847.  He  followed  his  son  within  less  than  a  year,  worn 
out  by  the  action  of  hard  work  and  hard  living  on  a 
temperament  which  was  both  restless  and  passionate. 

Much  of  this  considerable  body  of  writing  suffers  neces- 
sarily from  the  conditions  in  which  it  was  done.  They 
are  defined  by  Marryat  himself  with  candour  in  a  letter 
written  from  the  United  States,  in  which  he  confesses 
that  he  would  write  no  more  if  he  were  not  '  rather  in 

xvi 


INTRODUCTION 

want  of  money. '  Work  done  for  money  and  against  the  grain 
can  hardly  be  very  good  when  it  implies  the  use  of  faculties 
no  man  can  rely  on  being  able  to  command  at  will.  Industry 
and  judgment  may  answer  to  call,  but  the  imagination  and 
the  creative  power  are  infinitely  less  obedient.  When  they 
are  forced  they  are  apt  to  revenge  themselves  by  turning 
out  what  is  really  only  journalism  in  disguise.  Some  of 
Marryat's  work,  too,  was  journalism  without  any  disguise 
at  all.  He  only  claims  for  it  himself  that  it  is  'good  maga- 
zine stuff,'  and  it  is  hardly  possible  to  say  even  as  much  as 
this  for  the  Diary  in  America.  It  is  quite  unnecessary  to 
speak  of  work  at  which  nobody  would  ever  look  if  it  had  not 
been  done  by  the  author  of  books  which  have  lived,  and 
will  live,  by  merits  of  quite  another  order.  That  Marryat 
received  ^1300  for  the  Diary  in  America  is  an  interesting 
fact  in  the  history  of  publishing.  It  shows  that  in  1839 
there  was  a  profound  belief  in  the  trade  that  any  book  about 
America  by  a  writer  of  reputation  would  sell.  From  any 
other  point  of  view  the  book  is  'of  no  consequence.' 

That  portion  of  Marryat's  work  which  is  of  some  con- 
sequence is  none  the  less  exceptionally  large.  In  estimat- 
ing its  merits  it  is  necessary  to  take  fairly  into  account  the 
extent  to  which  he  was  helped  to  fortune  in  literature  by 
'occasion  fitting  virtue.'  Washington  Irving  exactly  de- 
fined the  character  of  the  occasion  in  Marryat's  case  when 
he  wrote :  '  You  have  a  glorious  field  before  you,  and  one  in 
which  you  cannot  have  many  competitors,  as  so  very  few 
unite  the  author  to  the  sailor. '  Many  sailors  have  written 
well,  but  if  by  the  word  author  we  are  to  understand  a 
writer  who  uses  the  sea  life  as  the  material  for  poetry  or 
romance,  or  tale  of  humour  and  adventure,  Washington 
Irving  was  almost  exaggerating  when  he  said  '  very  few. ' 
He  wrote  at  the  very  beginning  of  Marryat's  career  as  an 

xvii 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

author,  and  at  that  period  he  might  well  have  said  nobody. 
The  combination  of  author  (in  this  sense)  and  sailor  has 
always  been  more  than  rare.  Smollett's  brief  experience 
of  the  sea  in  the  humble  capacity  of  loblolly-boy  hardly 
entitled  him  to  be  called  a  seaman — and  there  is  nobody 
else.  It  is  true  that  some  traces  may  be  found  of  writers 
who  attempted  to  combine  the  author  and  the  sailor. 
Falconer  is  still  fairly  perceptible.  But  even  in  his  case, 
and  to  an  infinitely  greater  extent  in  the  case  of  such  persons 
as  '  Poet '  Thomson,  it  is  impossible  to  use  the  word 
1  author '  if  it  is  understood  to  imply  the  possession  of 
style,  taste,  humour,  pathos,  or  any  other  of  those  qualities 
which  go  to  the  production  of  literature.  They  have  a 
certain  limited  value  as  witnesses  to  the  student  of  naval 
history,  and  that  is  all. 

The  example  of  these  writers  will  serve,  if  any  is  needed, 
to  prove  how  very  little  the  occasion  will  do  of  itself.  If 
Marryat  had  had  nothing  but  his  experience  to  qualify 
him  to  write  sea  stories,  it  is  very  certain  that  Peter  Simple 
and  Mr.  Midshipman  Easy  would  never  have  been  written. 
What  he  had  were  the  qualities  which  would  have  made 
him  an  excellent  story-teller  whatever  his  life  had  been 
before  he  began  to  write.  The  story  which  follows  this 
introduction  is  in  itself  evidence  that  Marryat  could  write  a 
lively  tale  of  adventure  without  help  from  his  recollections 
of  sea  life.  At  the  same  time  it  would  be  as  uncritical  to 
underrate  the  extent  to  which  they  did  help  him  as  it  would 
be  to  attribute  his  excellence  wholly  to  them.  It  was  of 
infinite  advantage  to  him  that  he  had  lived  in  a  world  so 
peculiar,  so  much  a  thing  by  itself,  as  the  navy,  and  at  a 
time  when  it  was  at  its  best.  Something  of  the  old 
barbarism  still  lingered  about  it — enough  to  give  a  certain 
approach  to  an  excuse  for  the  judgment  passed  on  the  old 

xviii 


INTRODUCTION 

navy  by  one  who  had  seen  a  little  of  it  in  his  youth — that  , 
the  officers  were  hardly  human,  and  the  men  were  fiends. 
Sir  Gilbert  Elliot,  the  first  Lord  Minto,  who  spent  some 
months  on  Lord  Hood's  flagship  in  the  Mediterranean,  and 
saw  much  of  the  navy  during  the  operations  in  Corsica, 
found  no  want  of  humanity  in  the  officers,  and  saw 
nothing  fiendish  in  the  men.  Discipline,  high  spirit,  zeal, 
readiness  to  tackle  the  hardest  work,  and  ingenuity  in 
adapting  means  to  ends  were  what  he  saw,  and  he  com- 
pared them  to  the  '  high  lounge '  of  the  military  gentlemen 
with  whom  he  had  to  deal  in  Corsica,  very  much  to  the 
disadvantage  of  these  latter.  Sir  Gilbert  Elliot  saw  the 
picked  crew  and  officers  of  the  flagship  of  one  of  the  very 
ablest  of  admirals.  Nelson,  too,  was  one  of  Hood's  captains, 
and  the  whole  squadron  represented  the  best  of  the  navy. 
In  his  high  place  the  rougher  side  of  the  life  would  be 
hidden  from  Sir  Gilbert,  but  his  evidence  at  least  shows 
that  the  old  barbarism  was  so  far  tamed  that  a  Scotch 
gentleman,  in  whom  there  was  no  want  of  fastidiousness 
and  '  proper  pride, '  could  prefer  it  to  the  army  as  a  service 
for  his  son.  It  is  to  be  noted  that  Elliot  judged  by  what 
he  saw  himself,  and  does  not  appear  to  have  been  in  any  way 
influenced  in  favour  of  the  navy  by  remembering  that  his 
uncle  was  the  Captain  Elliot  of  the  JEolus  who  snuffed 
out  the  French  corsair  Thurot  in  1760.  What  remained 
of  the  navy  as  Smollett  had  seen  it  (and  he,  it  must  be 
remembered,  deliberately  exaggerated  for  the  sake  of  comic 
effect)  was  enough  to  give  a  flavour  and  colour  of  its  own 
to  the  service. 

Unquestionably  it  was  of  immense  advantage  to  Marryat 
that  his  experience  enabled  him  to  give  a  picture  of  the 
English  seamanhood  of  his  time  before  it  vanished  for  ever. 
This  which  Carlyle  judged  to  be  the  mission  of  Smollett, 

xix 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

was  certainly  Marryat's  in  an  even  greater  degree.     Captain 

Savage  of  the  Diomede,  Captain  M of  the  King1  s  Own, 

Captain  Hector  Maclean  in  Jacob  Faithful,  Terence 
O'Brien,  the  mate  Martin,  the  midshipman  Gascoigne, 
Thomas  Saunders,  the  boatswain's  mate,  and  Swinburne,  the 
quartermaster,  are  beyond  all  question  not  less  lifelike 
portraits  of  the  officers  and  men  of  the  navy  than  Trunnion 
and  Bowling,  Pipes  and  Hatchway.  In  one  respect 
Marryat  had  an  inevitable  advantage  over  his  predecessor. 
Smollett  never  shows  us  the  seaman  at  his  work.  He  could 
not,  because  he  did  not  know  it  sufficiently  well  to  under- 
stand it  himself,  still  less  to  explain  it  to  others.  Marryat 
was  intimately  familiar  with  all  that  the  author  of  Roderick 
Random  could  only  look  at  from  the  outside;  therefore 
he  could  show  his  seamen  at  their  work.  His  scenes  of 
battle  and  shipwreck  are  convincingly  true.  An  easy  test 
is  to  compare  any  of  his  great  scenes — the  club-hauling  of 
the  Diomede,  or  the  fight  with  the  Danish  gun-boats  in 
Peter  Simple,  the  destruction  of  the  French  liner,  and  the 
wreck  of  the  English  frigate  in  the  King1  s  Own — with  the 
narratives  of  actual  events  told  by  the  actors  such,  for 
example,  as  Captain  Inglefield's  account  of  the  loss  of  the 
Centaur,  or  Dundonald's  description  of  his  escape  from 
the  French  line  of  battleships.  That  Marryat  wrote  about 
the  cutting  off  of  dogs'  tails,  and  other  trivial  matters  which 
excited  the  spleen  of  Carlyle,  is  true.  In  themselves  these 
incidents  are  neither  better  nor  worse  than  the  description 
of  the  scrubbing  of  the  Nymph  of  the  Road,  with  the  various 
kind  of  swabs  used  in  his  Majesty's  ships  of  war,  which  is  to 
be  found  in  Peregrine  Pickle.  If  we  are  not  to  condemn 
Smollett  for  the  one,  why  Marryat  for  the  other?  That 
Carlyle  did  only  shows  that  he  was  stupid  for  once  in  his  life. 
That  Marryat  sometimes  makes  use  of  real  incidents  of 
xx 


INTRODUCTION 

the  war  does  not  in  itself  add  much  to  the  verisimilitude  of 
his  pictures.  Indeed,  he  is  very  chary  in  the  use  of  this 
resource,  and  when  originals  are  found  for  incidents  in  his 
novels  (other  than  the  avowedly  personal  reminiscences  in 
the  Naval  Officer)  their  resemblance  to  the  event  in  the 
novel  is  not  commonly  very  close.  Thus,  for  instance, 
the  club-hauling  of  the  Diomede  has  been  compared  to  the 
club-hauling  of  the  Magnificent  in  the  storm  on  the  west 
coast  of  France  in  1812,  and  the  destruction  of  the  French 
liner  in  the  King's  Own  to  the  hunting  of  Les  Droits  de 
P Homme  by  Pellew  in  1797.  But  the  inferences  between 
the  originals  and  the  copies  are  very  great.  The  almost 
superhuman  feat  of  seamanship  by  which  Captain  Hayes 
saved  his  seventy-four  from  the  reef  of  Cosseron  and  the 
reef  of  the  Isle  de  Rlie",  and  earned  for  himself,  from  the 
admiration  of  his  brother  seamen,  the  honourable  nickname 
of  '  Magnificent  Hayes, '  was  a  far  greater  thing  than  the 
imaginary  achievement  of  Captain  Savage.  If  Marryat  had 
it  in  his  mind  at  all  when  he  was  writing  Peter  Simple,  he 
showed  good  sense  in  avoiding  too  close  a  copy.  The 
saving  of  the  Magnificent  was  so  long  a  fight,  so  com- 
plicated, and  so  full  of  technical  detail,  that  it  would  have 
overburdened  the  story,  and  could  with  difficulty  have 
been  made  intelligible.  Marryat  wisely  took  a  simpler 
version  of  the  same  feat,  and  told  it  so  that  any  reader  who 
will  read  with  moderate  attention  can  understand  what 
Captain  Savage  did,  and  why.  The  destruction  of  Les 
Droits  de  r Homme,  again,  was  the  work  of  two  frigates — 
the  Indefatigable,  of  which  Pellew  was  captain,  and  the 
Amazon,  whose  captain  was  Reynolds — the  same  who,  as 
rear-admiral,  was  frozen  to  death  in  the  wreck  of  the 
St.  George  on  the  coast  of  Denmark.  Neither  of  the 
English  captains  meant  deliberately  to  lose  their  ship. 

xxi 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

The  Amazon  was  indeed  lost,  but  it  was  because  she  was 
unwittingly  taken  too  near  the  shore  in  the  dark.  In  this  case 
Marryat  has  magnified  the  feat  for  the  sake  of  artistic  effect. 

After  all,  however,  it  is  not  because  he  wrote  with  know- 
ledge and  vigour  of  the  sea  and  seamen,  but  because  he 
wrote  of  possible  and  intrinsically  interesting  human  beings 
at  sea,  and  doing  seaman-like  things,  that  Marryat  is  interest- 
ing to  the  mass  of  readers.  Thousands  have  laughed  kindly 
at  Mr.  Chucks  and  Peter  Simple,  or  have  felt  sorry  for  Martin, 
or  have  loved  Masterman  Ready,  who  do  not  know  the 
bobstay  from  the  falls,  or  whether  there  is  any  difference 
between  tacking  and  wearing.  This  general  human  interest 
of  his  books,  and  his  fun,  have  done  more  to  make  his 
stories  readable  than  his  accuracy  in  sea  affairs.  It  is  true 
that  he  rarely  attains  to  a  very  high  degree  of  reality  except 
when  he  is  drawing  seamen.  The  facts  that  he  did  not 
begin  to  write  till  nearly  forty,  and  that  his  experience  had 
up  to  this  age  been  almost  wholly  gained  in  active  service, 
are  the  sufficient  explanations  of  the  superiority  of  his 
sailors  to  his  other  characters.  He  wrote  best  of  what  he 
had  known  best.  His  experience  was  the  fund  he  spent  as 
Sir  Walter  Scott  drew  on  his  multifarious  reading  when  he, 
at  about  the  same  age,  took  seriously  to  novel-writing.  If 
his  youth  had  been  spent  among  other  scenes,  he  would 
have  described  them,  for  he  was  by  nature  a  story-teller. 
Had  he  not  been  a  seaman  he  would  have  written  all  the 
same,  and  in  all  probability  he  would  have  begun  earlier. 

The  merits  of  Captain  Marryat  as  a  teller  of  stories  are 
very  simple,  and  lie  on  the  surface.  Poe  put  his  finger  on 
them,  and  miscalled  them  stupidly  enough,  when  he  said 
that  Marryat  was  '  essentially  mediocre,'  and  that  'his 
ideas  were  the  common  property  of  the  mob. '  As  a  piece 
of  criticism,  this  requires  to  be  completed  by  Poe's  final 

xxii 


INTRODUCTION 

fling  that  he  had  known  twenty  young  Americans  who 
could  do  as  good  in  a  week.  We  have  been  waiting  for 
those  young  men  to  begin  these  many  years.  Translated 
into  sense  what  this  means  is  that  Marryat  drew  average 
human  beings  doing  as  average  human  beings  do,  on  the 
usual  motives.  It  is  an  idea  of  the  mob  that  the  good 
things  of  the  world  are  desirable,  and  Marryat  shared  the 
opinion.  It  is  an  idea  of  the  mob  that  a  story  ought  to 
amuse,  and,  as  a  rule,  to  end  happily,  and  in  this  Captain 
Marryat  agreed  with  his  readers.  The  ideas  of  the  mob 
were  interpreted  very  similarly  by  Scott  and  Dumas.  When 
Captain  Marryat  went  wrong,  it  was  when  he  did  not  share 
the  '  mob's  '  artistic  preference  for  honesty  in  the  heroes  of 
its  stories  and  melodramas — when  he  drew  such  a  couple 
of  cubs  as  Frank  Mildmay  and  Percival  Keene.  The  want 
of  construction  of  plot  which  has  been  complained  of  in 
his  stories  was  a  defect  he  shared  with  all  his  contempor- 
aries. It  would  be  difficult  to  point  out  many  traces 
of  construction  in  the  stories  of  Sir  Walter  himself,  or 
of  Lever,  or  of  Dickens  in  his  early  days.  The  fun,  too,  of 
Marryat  is  of  the  kind  which  is  '  the  common  property  of 
the  mob ' — that  is  to  say,  it  is  good,  hearty  laughter  at  human 
absurdities  and  mishaps.  There  are  still  some  of  us  who 
will  unabashedly  confess  to  a  wish  that  they  could  get  more 
of  it.  Captain  Marryat' s  writing  has  never  been  held  to 
give  him  a  title  to  the  name  of  stylist,  but  his  narrative 
prose  has  been  compared  to  Defoe's  by  so  good  a  judge  as 
Lockhart.  The  bits  of  his  own  verse  which  are  to  be  found 
in  his  books  prove  his  power  to  handle  language.  '  The 
captain  stood  on  the  carronade, '  '  Poll  put  her  arms 
akimbo, '  and  '  Now  your  father  is  asleep,  maid,  listen  unto 
me,'  are  excellent  good  verse  of  the  kind  which  does  not 
profess  to  be  poetry,  and  which  can  be  sung.  It  is  not 

xxiii 


JAI'IIKT,    IN    SEARCH     OK    A    FAT  I  IKK 

the  highest.,  or  even  high,  but  it  is  unpretentious  and  is 
genuine. 

The  book  which  has  been  chosen  as  the  first  of  this  set 
is  perhaps  the  least  Marryat-likc  of  Captain  Marryat's  stories. 
It.  is  ;i  in>'Vt'/(t  </('  picat'os  of  merit — an  exception  in  its 
author's  work  almost  as  much  as  Con  Cretan  is.  in  Lever's. 
Of  the  kind  it  is  sufficiently  good. 

The  picturesque  novel  does  not  require  more  than  action 
conducted  by  brisk  puppets  to  be  acceptable  to  those  who 
have  the  wisdom  to  ask  no  more  from  it  than  it  ought  to  be 
expected  to  give.  Marryat  has  in  this  book  partly  adopted 
and  partly  invented  a  fairly  good  set  of  puppets.  Japhct 
and  his  faithful  Timothy  are  the  everlasting  two,  the  hero 
and  his  valet,  who  reappear  in  so  many  forms  of  play  and 
story,  who  are  Don  Quixote  and  Sancho  at  one  end  of  the 
scale,  and  the  unchanging  (lalan  and  (Iracioso  of  the 
Spanish  genteel  comedy,  the  Cotnedia  lie  capa  y  Hspada,  at 
the  other.  Don  Juan  and  Snagarclle,  Tom  Jones  and 
Partridae,  Roderick  Random  and  Strap,  many  another  hero, 
and  '  Charles,  his  friend,'  are  all  variations  on  the  same  two 
types.  Japhet  and  Timothy  are,  it  need  hardly  be  added, 
very  much  nearer  to  the  Galan  and  the  (Iracioso  than  to 
Don  Quixote  and  Sancho.  The  surrounding  figures,  Major 
Carbonnell  and  Captain  Atkinson,  Mr.  Cophagus  with  his 
catchwords,  the  melodramatic  Melchior  and  Netta,  are  as 
competent  as  the  central  two.  The  incidents,  too,  are  of  the 
well-approved  kind,  sudden  changes  of  fortune,  mysteries, 
stolen  children,  robbers'  caves,  long-lost  parents,  and,  as  Mr. 
Cophagus  would  say  '  um —so  on.'  They  are  entertaining 
to  read  but.  not  to  read  about.  The  critic  can  do  little 
more  in  such  a  case  than  say  whether  this  author  has  been 
fairly  successful  in  dealing  with  the  materials  which  have 
been  the  common  stock  of  story-tellers  from  the  day  of  the 

xxiv 


INTRODUCTION 

Greek  Romances.  Marryat  has  done  not  as  well  as  some, 
but  better  than  many.  There  is  one  person  in  the  book 
who  is  not  of  the  common  stock,  and  that  is  Aramathea 
Judd,  the  young  woman  who  masquerades  as  her  aunt,  the 
prophetess  come  to  life  again.  Her  position  is  something 
new,  and  her  character  promises  much.  Good  judges  have 
been  of  opinion  that  there  is  more  in  her  than  any  of  the 
characters  which  Marryat  did  not  take  from  the  sea;  but 
whether  it  was  that  he  did  not  know  what  to  do  with  her, 
or  that  she  frightened  him,  or  that  he  feared  to  shock  his 
readers  with  her,  Marryat  drops  Aramathea  almost  so  soon 
as  he  has  taken  her  up,  and  with  her  disappears  all  that 
could  have  distinguished  Jq.phct,  in  Search  of  a  Father 
from  a  regular  picturesque  novel. 


xxv 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    I 

Like  most  other  children,  who  should  be  my  godfather  is  decided  by 
mammon  —  So  precocious  as  to  make  some  noise  in  the  world, 
and  be  hung  a  few  days  after  I  was  born  —  Cut  down  in  time, 
and  produce  a  scene  of  bloodshed  —  My  early  propensities  fully 
developed  by  the  choice  of  my  profession  .  .  .  Page  I 


CHAPTER    II 

Like  all  tyros,  I  find  the  rudiments  of  learning  extremely  difficult 
and  laborious,  but  advance  so  rapidly  that  I  can  do  without 
my  master  ..........  7 


CHAPTER    III 

I  perform  a  wonderful  cure  upon  St.  John  Long's  principle,  having 
little  or  no  principle  of  my  own  —  I  begin  to  puzzle  my  head  with 
a  problem,  of  all  others  most  difficult  to  solve  .  .  13 


CHAPTER    IV 

Very  much  puzzled  with  a  new  patient,  nevertheless  take  my  degree  at 
fifteen  as  an  M.D. ;  and  what  is  still  more  acceptable,  I  pocket 
the  fees  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  17 


JAPHET,    IN   SEARCH   OF  A   FATHER 


CHAPTER    V 

My  vanity  receives  a  desperate  wound,  but  my  heart  remains  unscathed 
—  An  anomaly  in  woman,  one  who  despises  beauty        .     Page  23 


CHAPTER    VI 

My  prescriptions  very  effective  and  palatable,  but  I  lose  my  patient  — 
The  feud  equal  to  that  of  the  Montagues  and  the  Capulets  — 
Results  different  —  Mercutio  comes  off  unhurt  .  .  .28 


CHAPTER    VII 

Looking  out  for  business  not  exactly  minding  your  own  business  —  The 
loss  of  the  scales  occasions  the  loss  of  place  to  Timothy  and  me, 
who  when  weighed  in  other  scales  were  found  wanting  —  We 
bundle  off  with  our  bundles  on  .  .  .  .  .  -35 


CHAPTER  VIII 

We  take  a  coach,  but  the  driver  does  not  like  his  fare  and  hits  us  foul 
—  We  change  our  mode  of  travelling,  upon  the  principle  of  slow 
and  sure,  and  fall  in  with  a  very  learned  man  .  .  .40 


CHAPTER    IX 

In  which  the  adventures  in  the  waggon  are  continued,  and  we  become 
more  puzzled  with  our  new  companions  —  WTe  leave  off  talking 
Latin,  and  enter  into  an  engagement  .....  45 


CHAPTER    X 

In  which  the  reader  is  introduced  to  several  new  acquaintances,  and  all 
connected  with  them,  except  birth  and  parentage,  which  appears 
to  be  the  one  thing  wanting  throughout  the  whole  of  this  work  5 1 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    XI 

Whatever  may  be  the  opinion  of  the  reader,  he  cannot  assert  that  we 
are  no  conjurers  —  We  suit  our  wares  to  our  customers,  and  our 
profits  are  considerable  ......  Page  57 

CHAPTER    XII 

It  is  very  easy  to  humbug  those  who  are  so  eager  to  be  humbugged  as 
people  are  in  this  world  of  humbug  —  We  show  ourselves  exces- 
sively disinterested,  which  astonishes  everybody  .  .  .64 


CHAPTER    XIII 

The  seed  having  been  carefully  sown,  we  now  reap  a  golden  harvest 
—  We  tell  everybody  what  they  knew  before,  and  we  are  looked 
upon  as  most  marvellous  by  most  marvellous  fools  .  -7° 

CHAPTER    XIV 

In  which  Melchior  talks  very  much  like  an  astrologer,  and  Tim  and  I 
return  to  our  old  trade  of  making  up  innocent  prescriptions  .  75 

CHAPTER    XV 

In  which  Timothy  makes  a  grand  speech,  quite  as  true  as  those  de- 
livered from  the  hustings  —  Melchior,  like  the  candidate,  states 
his  pretensions  for  public  favour,  and  the  public,  as  usual,  swallow 
the  bait  ..........  79 

CHAPTER    XVI 

Important  news,  but  not  communicated  —  A  dissolution  of  partnership 
takes  place  ..........  86 

CHAPTER    XVII 

A  cabinet  council  —  I  resolve  to   set   up   as   a  gentleman,  having  as 
legitimate  pretensions  to  the  rank  of  one  as  many  others         .     92 
xxix 


JAPHET,    IN   SEARCH   OF  A   FATHER 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

I  receive  a  letter  from  my  uncle,  by  which  I  naturally  expect  to  find 
out  who  is  my  father — Like  other  outcasts  I  am  warned  by  a 
dream Page  99 

CHAPTER    XIX 

An  important  chapter  —  I  make  some  important  acquaintances,  obtain 
some  important  papers,  which  I  am  importunate  to  read 
through  ..........  104 

CHAPTER    XX 

I  open  an  account  with  my  bankers,  draw  largely  upon  credulity,  and 
am  prosperous  without  a  check  .  .  .  .  .  .107 


CHAPTER  XXI 

I  come  out  under  a  first-rate  chaperon,  and  at  once  am  established 
into  the  regions  of  fashion  —  Prove  that  I  am  deserving  of  my 
promotion  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .112 

CHAPTER    XXII 

The  real  Simon  Pure  proves  the  worse  of  the  two  —  I  am  found  guilty, 
but  not  condemned;  convicted,  yet  convince;  and  after  having 
behaved  the  very  contrary  to,  prove  that  I  am,  a  gentleman  116 


CHAPTER    XXIII 

The  major  prevents  the  landlord  from  imposing  on  me,  but  I  gain 
nothing  by  his  interference  —  For  economical  reasons  I  agree  to 
live  with  him  that  he  may  live  on  me  .  .  .  .  .123 

CHAPTER    XXIV 

The  major  teaches  me  how  to  play  whist  so  as  never  to  lose,  which  is 
by  playing  against  each  other,  and  into  each  other's  hands  .  127 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    XXV 

We  fund  our  winnings,  and  consider  to  refund,  a  work  of  supereroga- 
tion —  In  looking  after  my  father,  I  obey  the  old  adage,  '  Follow 
your  nose'  .........  Page  133 


CHAPTER    XXVI 
In  following  my  nose,  I  narrowly  escaped  being  nosed  by  a  beak  .    137 

CHAPTER    XXVII 

A  chapter  of  mistakes — No  benefit  of  clergy  —  I  attack  a  bishop,  and 
am  beaten  off — The  major  hedges  upon  the  filly  stakes          .    141 

CHAPTER    XXVIII 

I  am  over  head  and  ears  in  trouble  about  a  lady's  earrings;   commit 
myself  sadly,  and  am  very  nearly  committed  ....    146 

CHAPTER    XXIX 

I  borrow  money  upon  my  estate,  and  upon  very  favourable  terms .    150 

CHAPTER    XXX 

The  major  is  very  fortunate  and  very  unfortunate  —  He  receives  a  large 
sum  in  gold  and  one  ounce  of  lead         .         .         .         .         .    153 

CHAPTER    XXXI 

The  major  pays  the  only  debt  of  consequence  he  ever  did  pay,  and  I 
find  myself  a  man  of  property        .         .         .         .         .         .158 


JAPHET,   IN   SEARCH   OF  A   FATHER 


CHAPTER    XXXII 

A  chapter  full  of  morality,  which  ends  in  a  Jew  refusing  upwards  of 
^1000,  proving  the  millennium  to  be  nearly  at  hand       .  Page  162 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 

I  decide  upon  honesty  as  the  best  policy,  and  what  is  more  strange, 
receive  legal  advice  upon  this  important  point         .         .         .166 


CHAPTER   XXXIV 

I  attempt  to  profit  by  intelligence  I  receive,  and  throw  a  lady  into 
hysterics       .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .         .169 


CHAPTER    XXXV 

I  repair  the  damage,  and  make  things  worse  —  Plot  and  counterplot  — 
Tim  gains  a  watch  by  setting  watch  upon  his  tongue       .         .    175 


CHAPTER   XXXVI 

I  fall  very  much  in  love  with  honesty,  because  I  find  that  it  is  well 
received  in  the  world  —  and  to  prove  my  honesty,  inform  the 
whole  world  that  honest  I  have  never  been  .  .  .  .  179 


CHAPTER    XXXVII 

I  try  back  to  recover  the  lost  scent,  and  discover  to  my  astonishment, 
that  I  have  been  transported  for  forgery         .         .         .         .183 


CHAPTER    XXXVIII 

Mischief  brewing  —  Timothy  and    I    set    our  wits   to    work,  and   he 
resumes  his  old  profession  of  a  gipsy      ,          ,          ,          ,          .187 
xxxii 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    XXXIX 

I    set    off     on    a    wild-goose     chase  —  And     fall     in    with    an    old 
friend    ..........   Page  192 


CHAPTER    XL 
I  deny  my  master         .........    197 

CHAPTER    XLI 
I  turn  lawyer       ..........   202 

CHAPTER    XLII 

I  affront  an  Irish  gentleman  and  make  a  handsome  apology,  which  is 
accepted       ....          ....          .         .   206 

CHAPTER    XLIII 

I  am  not  content  with  minding  my  own  business,  but  must  have  a  hand 
in  that  of  others,  by  which  means  I  put  my  foot  in  it      .          .211 

CHAPTER    XLIV 

No  hopes  of  rising  next  morning  alive  —  As  a  last  chance,  I  get  into 
bed       ...........   214 

CHAPTER    XLV 

Petticoat  interest  prevails,  and  I  escape;   but  I  put  my  head  into  the 
lion's  den     ..........    219 

CHAPTER    XLVI 

Under  ground,  but  not  yet  dead  and  buried  —  The  prospect  anything 
but  pleasant  .........   223 


JAPIIET,   IN   SEARCH    OF  A    FATHER 


CHAPTER    XLVII 

A  friend  in  need  is  a  friend  indeed  —  The  tables  are  turned,  and  so  is 
the  key  —  The  issue  is  deep  tragedy     ....   Page  227 


CHAPTER    XLVIII 

Is  full  of  perilous  adventures,  and  in  which,  the  reader  may  be  assured, 
there  is  much  more  than  meets  the  eye  ....   230 


CHAPTER    XLIX 

Another  investigation  relative  to  a  child,  which,  in  the  same  way  as 
the  former  one,  ends  by  the  lady  going  off  in  a  fit  .         .   237 


CHAPTER    L 

In  which,  if  the  reader  does  not  sympathise  with  the  parties,  he  had 
better  shut  the  book      ........   240 


CHAPTER    LI 

I  return  to  the  gay  world,  but  am  not  well  received;   I  am  quite  dis- 
gusted with  it  and  honesty,  and  everything  else      .         .         .   244 


CHAPTER    LII 

A  new  character  appears,  but  not  a  very  amiable  one;   but  I  attach 
myself  to  him,  as  drowning  men  catch  at  straws     .          .          .    248 


CHAPTER    LIII 

Become  principal  instead  of  second  in  a  duel,  and  risk  my  own  and 

another's  life,  my  own  and  others'  happiness  and  peace  of  mind, 

because  I  have  been  punished  as  I  deserved  .          .         .  -253 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER    LIV 

This  is  a  strange  world;    I  am  cut  by  a  man  of  no  character,  because 
he  is  fearful  that  I  should  injure  his  character         .         .  Page  256 


CHAPTER    LV 

I  cut  my  new  acquaintance,  but  his  company,  even  in  so  short  a  time, 
proves  my  ruin  —  Notwithstanding  I  part  with  all  my  property,  I 
retain  my  honesty  ........  261 


CHAPTER    LVI 

I  resolve  to  begin  the  world  again,  and  to  seek  my  fortune  in  the  next 
path  —  I  take  leave  of  all  my  old  friends        ....    267 


CHAPTER    LVII 

My  new  career  is  not  very  prosperous  at  its  commencement  —  I  am 
robbed,  and  accused  of  being  a  robber  —  I  bind  up  wounds,  and 
am  accused  of  having  inflicted  them  —  I  get  into  a  horse-pond, 
and  out  of  it  into  gaol  ........  272 


CHAPTER    LVIII 

Worse  and  worse  —  If  out  of  gaol,  it  will  be  to  go  out  of  the  world  —  I 
am  resolved  to  take  my  secret  with  me  ....   278 


CHAPTER    LIX 

By  the  committing  of  magisterial  mistakes  I  am  personally  and  penally 
committed  —  I  prepare  for  my  trial  by  calling  in  the  assistance  of 
the  tailor  and  the  perfumer  —  I  am  resolved  to  die  like  a  gen- 
tleman .......  .  282 


JAPHET,    IN    SEARCH    OF   A    FATHER 


CHAPTER    LX 

I  am  condemned  to  be  hung  by  the  neck  until  I  am  dead,  and  to  go 
out  of  the  world  without  finding  out  who  is  my  father  —  Afterwards 
my  innocence  is  made  manifest,  and  I  am  turned  adrift  a  maniac 
in  the  high  road Page  286 


CHAPTER    LXI 

When  at  the  lowest  spoke  of  fortune's  wheel,  one  is  sure  to  rise  as  it 
turns  round  —  I  recover  my  senses,  and  find  myself  amongst 
friends  ..........  292 


CHAPTER    LXII 

I  fall  in  love  with  religion  when  preached  by  one  who  has  the  form  of 
an  angel       ..........   297 


CHAPTER     LXIII 

Pride  and  love  at  issue — The  latter  is  victorious  —  I  turn  Quaker,  and 
recommence  my  old  profession      .         .         .         .         .         -301 


CHAPTER    LXIV 
I  prosper  in  every  way,  and  become  reconciled  to  my  situation      .   306 

CHAPTER    LXV 

A  variety  of  the  Quaker  tribe  —  Who  had  a  curious  disintegration  of 
mind  and  body     .........   309 

CHAPTER    LXVI 
I  fall  in  with  Timothy  .........   313 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER    LXVII 
Timothy  commences  his  narrative  of  his  search  after  Japhet     Page  319 

CHAPTER    LXVIII 
Timothy  finishes  his  narrative        .......   325 

CHAPTER    LXIX 

I  am  unsettled  by  unexpected  intelligence,  and  again  yearn  after  the 
world  of  fashion  .........  330 

CHAPTER    LXX 

I  return  to  London  and  meet  with  Mr.  Masterton          .          .          .   334 

CHAPTER    LXXI 

In  which  I  am  let  into  more  particulars  relative  to  my  father's 
history.  ..........  341 

CHAPTER    LXXII 

I  am  a  little  jealous,  and,  like  the  immortal  William  Bottom,  inclined 
to  enact  more  parts  than  one  —  With  a  big  effort  my  hankering 
after  bigamy  is  mastered  by  Mr.  Masterton  —  and  by  my  own 
good  sense 347 

CHAPTER    LXXIII 

Contains  much  learned  argument  upon  broad-brims  and  garments  of 
grey  —  I  get  the  best  of  it  —  The  one  great  wish  of  my  life  is 
granted  —  I  meet  my  father,  and  a  cold  reception,  very  indicative 
of  much  after-heat  ........  355 


JAPHET,   IN   SEARCH   OF  A   FATHER 


CHAPTER    LXXIV 

Father  and  I  grow  warm  in  our  argument  —  Obliged  to  give  him  a  little 
schooling  to  show  my  affection  —  Takes  it  at  last  very  kindly,  and 
very  dutifully  owns  himself  a  fool  .....  Page  363 


CHAPTER    LXXV 

Father  still  dutifully  submissive  at  home  —  Abroad,  I  am  splitting  a 
straw  in  arguments  with  Susannah  about  straw  bonnets  —  The  rest 
of  the  chapter  contains  coquetry,  courting,  and  costumes  .  371 


CHAPTER    LXXVI 

I  renew  old  ties  of  friendship,  and  seek  new  ones  of  love  —  Obliged  to 
take  my  father  to  task  once  more  —  He  receives  his  lesson  with 
proper  obedience  ........  378 


CHAPTER    LXXVII 

Treats  of  apologies,  and  love  coming  from  church  —  We  finesse  with  the 
nabob  to  win  me  a  wife  —  I  am  successful  in  my  suit,  yet  the  lawyer 
is  still  to  play  the  cards  to  enable  me  to  win  the  game  .  .  385 


CHAPTER    LXXVIII 

The  Bengal  tiger  taken  in  the  toils,  which  promises  a  speedy  end  to 
mine  —  I  kindly  permit  my  father  to  insist  upon  the  marriage  that 
I  have  set  my  heart  upon  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  391 


CHAPTER    LXXIX 

Poor  Cophagus  finds  an  end  to  his  adventures  by  the  means  of  a  mad 
bull;  I,  of  mine,  by  matrimony  —  Father  is  prettily  behaved,  and 
my  Quaker  wife  the  most  fashionably  dressed  lady  in  town  — 
Verily  !  hum  !.........  397 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 


PAGE 

'  Scrutinising  my  person '   .          .          .          .          .          .          .          .          6 

'  Passengers  would  stop  to  look  in  '     .          .          .          .          .          .19 

'  Great  was  the  concussion  '.......        32 

'  The  bull  made  one  or  two  attempts  to  leap  the  counter  '    .          -36 
'  You  are  welcome '   .          .          .          .          .          .          .          .          -53 

'  Tim  threw  a  somerset  '     .          .          .          .          .          .          .          .63 

'The  Great  Aristodemus  made  his  appearance'  .          .          .          .71 

'  Stood  upon  his  saddle  and  harangued  the  people  '     .          .          .80 
'  The  master  ventured  to  observe  '......        97 

'  I  threw  myself  on  a  chair '  .          .          .          .          .          .in 

'No  longer  controlling  his  anger '        .          .          .          .          .          .120 

'  Her  mistress  praised  her  docility  and  application  '     .          .          .128 
'  If  I  lose,  I  shall  never  pay  you  '......      132 

'"Let  me  go,"  roared  I  '  .          .  .          .          .          .          .          -139 

'  I  stood  behind  her,  carefully  examining  them  '  .          .          .  147 

'  I  requested  Mr.  Osborn  to  drop  the  handkerchief    .          .  157 

'  With  his  hand  clasped  in  mine  he  gradually  sank  '     .          .          .161 
'I  was  ushered  into  the  drawing-room'       .          .          .          .          .171 

'They  had  been  consulting  how  this  should  be  done  '  .          .      193 

'  My  companions  were  all  in  repose '.          .          .          .    "     .          .198 

'  Mr.  O'Donaghan  pulled  on  his  gloves  '     .         .          .         .         .     209 

'"  What  is  your  name?  "  said  I '         ......      215 

'  She  put  some  salve  upon  the  wounds  and  bound  them  up  '          .      226 
'  The  maid-servant  to  whom  he  paid  his  addresses  '     .          .          .      234 


JAPHET,   IN   SEARCH   OF   A   FATHER 


?AGE 


'  My  child  !  my  long  lost  child  ! '         .          .          .          .          .          .241 

'  Harcourt  fell  with  a  bullet  above  his  knee  '  .          .          .255 

'  He  flew  out  and  fell  down  the  stairs  '.....  265 

'  Four  people  burst  through  the  hedge  and  surrounded  me  '         .  277 

'  I  was  placed  in  the  dock  '.......  288 

'  She  was  sitting  close  to  the  light  and  reading  ?  ...  299 

'  I  knew  not  what  answer  to  give  '......  303 

'  He  ran  out  of  the  door,  and  read  the  name  over  the  shop  '         .  315 

'  I  became  a  great  politician  '.......  322 

'  Asked  me  whether  the  spirit  did  not  move  me  to  get  down  '       .  336 

'  Mr.  Masterton  resumed  the  subject '  .....  342 

'  I  heard  a  light  footstep  behind  me  '  .....  350 

'  I  folded  my  arms  and  looked  my  father  steadfastly  in  the  face ' .  364 
'  The  dress  naturally  drew  upon  her  the   casual  glance   of  the 

passengers '.........  37^ 

'  We  were  in  each  other's  arms  '......  382 

'  The  bull  singled  him  out  '.......  398 


CHAPTER   I 

Like  most  other  children,  who  should  be  my  godfather  is  decided  by 
mammon — So  precocious  as  to  make  some  noise  in  the  world,  and 
be  hung  a  few  days  after  I  was  born — Cut  down  in  time,  and  produce 
a  scene  of  bloodshed — My  early  propensities  fully  developed  by  the 
choice  of  my  profession. 

THOSE  who  may  be  pleased  to  honour  these  pages  with  a 
perusal,  will  not  be  detained  with  a  long  introductory  history 
of  my  birth,  parentage,  and  education.  The  very  title  implies 
that,  at  this  period  of  my  memoirs,  I  was  ignorant  of  the  two 
first ;  and  it  will  be  necessary  for  the  due  development  of  my 
narrative,  that  I  allow  them  to  remain  in  the  same  state  of 
bliss ;  for  in  the  perusal  of  a  tale,  as  well  as  in  the  pilgrimage 
of  life,  ignorance  of  the  future  may  truly  be  considered  as  the 
greatest  source  of  happiness.  The  little  that  was  known  of 
me  at  this  time  I  will  however  narrate  as  concisely,  and  as 

correctly,  as  I  am  able.      It  was  on  the 1  really  forget  the 

date,  and  must  rise  from  my  chair,  look  for  a  key,  open  a 
closet,  and  then  open  an  iron  safe  to  hunt  over  a  pile  of  papers 
— it  will  detain  you  too  long — it  will  be  sufficient  to  say  that  it 

was  on  a  night but  whether  the  night  was  dark  or  moonlit, 

or  rainy  or  foggy,  or  cloudy  or  fine,  or  starlight,  I  really 
cannot  tell ;  but  it  is  of  no  very  great  consequence.  Well,  it 

was  on  a  night  about  the  hour there  again  I'm  puzzled,  it 

might  have  been  ten,  or  eleven,  or  twelve,  or  between  any  of 
these  hours  ;  nay,  it  might  have  been  past  midnight,  and  far 
advancing  to  the  morning,  for  what  I  know  to  the  contrary. 

The  reader  must  excuse  an  infant  of there  again  I  am  at 

a  nonplus ;  but  we  will  assume  of  some  days  old — if,   when 
B  i 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

wrapped  up  in  flannel  and  in  a  covered  basket,  and,  moreover, 
fast  asleep  at  the  time,  he  does  not  exactly  observe  the  state 
of  the  weather,  and  the  time  by  the  church  clock.  I  never 
before  was  aware  of  the  great  importance  of  dates  in  telling  a 
story ;  but  it  is  now  too  late  to  recover  these  facts,  which  have 
been  swept  away  into  oblivion  by  the  broad  wing  of  Time. 
I  must  therefore  just  tell  the  little  I  do  know,  trusting  to  the 
reader's  good  nature,  and  to  blanks.  It  is  as  follows  : — that, 

at  the  hour of  the  night the  state  of  the  weather  being 

also 1,  an  infant  of  a  certain  age was  suspended  by 

somebody  or  somebodies at  the  knocker  of  the  Foundling 

Hospital.  Having  made  me  fast,  the  said  somebody  or  some- 
bodies rang  a  peal  upon  the  bell  which  made  the  old  porter 
start  up  in  so  great  a  hurry,  that,  with  the  back  of  his  hand 
he  hit  his  better  half  a  blow  on  the  nose,  occasioning  a  great 
suffusion  of  blood  from  that  organ,  and  a  still  greater  pouring 
forth  of  invectives  from  the  organ  immediately  below  it. 

All  this  having  been  effected  by  the  said  peal  on  the  bell, 
the  said  somebody  or  somebodies  did  incontinently  take  to 
their  heels,  and  disappear  long  before  the  old  porter  could  pull 
his  legs  through  his  nether  garments  and  obey  the  rude 
summons.  At  last  the  old  man  swang  open  the  gate,  and  the 
basket  swang  across  his  nose  ;  he  went  in  again  for  a  knife 
and  cut  me  down,  for  it  was  cruel  to  hang  a  baby  of  a  few 
days  old  ;  carried  me  into  the  lodge,  lighted  a  candle,  and 
opened  the  basket.  Thus  did  I  metaphorically  first  come  to 
light. 

When  he  opened  the  basket  I  opened  my  eyes,  and  although 
I  did  not  observe  it,  the  old  woman  was  standing  at  the  table 
in  very  light  attire,  sponging  her  nose  over  a  basin. 

*  Verily,  a  pretty  babe  with  black  eyes  ! '  exclaimed  the  old 
man  in  a  tremulous  voice. 

'  Black  eyes,  indeed,'  muttered  the  old  woman.  '  I  shall 
have  two  to-morrow.' 

*  Beautiful  black  eyes,  indeed  ! '  continued  the  old  man. 

'  Terrible  black  eyes,  for  sartain,'  continued  the  old  woman, 
as  she  sponged  away. 

'  Poor  thing,  it  must  be  cold,'  murmured  the  old  porter. 

*  Warrant  I  catch  my  death  a-cold,'  muttered  the  wife. 

*  But,  dear  me,  here's  a  paper ! '  exclaimed  the  old  man. 

*  Vinegar  and  brown  paper,'  echoed  the  old  woman. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Addressed  to  the  governors  of  the  hospital,'  continued  the 
porter. 

'  Apply  to  the  dispenser  of  the  hospital,'  continued  his  wife. 

'  And  sealed,'  said  he. 

'  Get  it  healed,'  said  she. 

*  The  linen  is  good  ;  it  must  be  the  child  of  no  poor  people. 
Who  knows  ? ' — soliloquised  the  old  man. 

'  My  poor  nose  ! '  exclaimed  the  old  woman. 

'  I  must  take  it  to  the  nurses,  and  the  letter  I  will  give  to- 
morrow,' said  the  old  porter,  winding  up  his  portion  of  this 
double  soliloquy,  and  tottering  away  with  the  basket  and  your 
humble  servant  across  the  court-yard. 

'  There,  it  will  do  now,'  said  the  old  wife,  wiping  her  face 
on  a  towel,  and  regaining  her  bed,  in  which  she  was  soon 
joined  by  her  husband,  and  they  finished  their  nap  without 
any  further  interruption  during  that  night. 

The  next  morning  I  was  reported  and  examined,  and  the 
letter  addressed  to  the  governors  was  opened  and  read.  It 
was  laconic,  but  still,  as  most  things  laconic  are,  very  much  to 
the  point. 

'This  child  was  born  in  wedlock — he  is  to  be  named 
Japhet.  When  circumstances  permit,  he  will  be  reclaimed.' 

But  there  was  a  postscript  by  Abraham  Newland,  Esq., 
promising  to  pay  the  bearer,  on  demand,  the  sum  of  fifty 
pounds.  In  plainer  terms,  there  was  a  bank  note  to  that 
amount  inclosed  in  the  letter.  As  in  general  the  parties  who 
suspend  children  in  baskets,  have  long  before  suspended  cash 
payments,  or,  at  all  events,  forget  to  suspend  them  with  the 
baskets,  my  arrival  created  no  little  noise,  to  which  I  added 
my  share,  until  I  obtained  a  share  of  the  breast  of  a  young 
woman,  who,  like  Charity,  suckled  two  or  three  babies  at  one 
time. 

We  have  preparatory  schools  all  over  the  kingdom ;  for 
young  gentlemen,  from  three  to  five  years  of  age,  under  ladies, 
and  from  four  to  seven,  under  either,  or  both  sexes,  as  it  may 
happen  ;  but  the  most  preparatory  of  all  preparatory  schools, 
is  certainly  the  Foundling  Hospital,  which  takes  in  its  pupils, 
if  they  are  sent,  from  one  to  three  days  old,  or  even  hours,  if 
the  parents  are  in  such  extreme  anxiety  about  their  education. 
Here  it  commences  with  their  weaning,  when  they  are  instructed 
in  the  mystery  of  devouring  pap ;  next,  they  are  taught  to 

3 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

walk — and  as  soon  as  they  can  walk — to  sit  still ;  to  talk — 
and  as  soon  as  they  can  talk — to  hold  their  tongues  ;  thus  are 
they  instructed  and  passed  on  from  one  part  of  the  establish- 
ment to  another,  until  they  finally  are  passed  out  of  its  gates, 
to  get  on  in  the  world,  with  the  advantages  of  some  education, 
and  the  still  further  advantage  of  having  no  father  or  mother 
to  provide  for,  or  relatives  to  pester  them  with  their  necessities. 
It  was  so  with  me :  I  arrived  at  the  age  of  fourteen,  and  not- 
withstanding the  promise  contained  in  the  letter,  it  appeared 
that  circumstances  did  not  permit  of  my  being  reclaimed. 
But  I  had  a  great  advantage  over  the  other  inmates  of  the 
hospital ;  the  fifty  pounds  sent  with  me  were  not  added  to  the 
funds  of  the  establishment,  but  generously  employed  for  my 
benefit  by  the  governors,  who  were  pleased  with  my  conduct, 
and  thought  highly  of  my  abilities.  Instead  of  being  bound 
'prentice  to  a  cordwainer,  or  some  other  mechanic,  by  the 
influence  of  the  governors,  added  to  the  fifty  pounds  and 
interest,  as  a  premium,  I  was  taken  by  an  apothecary,  who 
engaged  to  bring  me  up  to  the  profession.  And  now,  that  I 
am  out  of  the  Foundling,  we  must  not  travel  quite  so  fast. 

The  practitioner  who  thus  took  me  by  the  hand  was  a  Mr. 
Phineas  Cophagus,  whose  house  was  most  conveniently  situated 
for  business,  one  side  of  the  shop  looking  upon  Smithfield 
Market,  the  other  presenting  a  surface  of  glass  to  the  principal 
street  leading  out  of  the  same  market.  It  was  a  corner  house, 
but  not  in  a  corner.  On  each  side  of  the  shop  were  two  gin 
establishments,  and  next  to  them  were  two  public-houses  and 
then  two  eating-houses,  frequented  by  graziers,  butchers,  and 
drovers.  Did  the  men  drink  so  much  as  to  quarrel  in  their 
cups,  who  was  so  handy  to  plaster  up  the  broken  heads  as  Mr. 
Cophagus  ?  Did  a  fat  grazier  eat  himself  into  an  apoplexy, 
how  very  convenient  was  the  ready  lancet  of  Mr.  Cophagus. 
Did  a  bull  gore  a  man,  Mr.  Cophagus  appeared  with  his 
diachylon  and  lint.  Did  an  ox  frighten  a  lady,  it  was  in  the 
back  parlour  of  Mr.  Cophagus  that  she  was  recovered  from  her 
syncope.  Market  days  were  a  sure  market  to  my  master; 
and  if  an  over -driven  beast  knocked  down  others,  it  only 
helped  to  set  him  on  his  legs.  Our  window  suffered  occasion- 
ally ;  but  whether  it  were  broken  heads,  or  broken  limbs,  or 
broken  windows,  they  were  well  paid  for.  Every  one  suffered 
but  Mr.  Phineas  Cophagus,  who  never  suffered  a  patient  to 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

escape  him.  The  shop  had  the  usual  allowance  of  green, 
yellow,  and  blue  bottles ;  and  in  hot  weather,  from  our  vicinity, 
we  were  visited  by  no  small  proportion  of  blue -bottle  flies. 
We  had  a  white .  horse  in  one  window,  and  a  brown  horse  in 
the  other,  to  announce  to  the  drovers  that  we  supplied  horse- 
medicines.  And  we  had  all  the  patent  medicines  in  the 
known  world,  even  to  the  '  all-sufficient  medicine  for  mankind5 
of  Mr.  Enouy  ;  having  which,  I  wondered,  on  my  first  arrival, 
why  we  troubled  ourselves  about  any  others.  The  shop  was 
large,  and  at  the  back  part  there  was  a  most  capacious  iron 
mortar,  with  a  pestle  to  correspond.  The  first  floor  was 
tenanted  by  Mr.  Cophagus,  who  was  a  bachelor ;  the  second 
floor  was  let ;  the  others  were  appropriated  to  the  housekeeper, 
and  to  those  who  formed  the  establishment.  In  this  well- 
situated  tenement,  Mr.  Cophagus  got  on  swimmingly.  I  will, 
therefore,  for  the  present,  sink  the  shop,  that  my  master  may 
rise  in  the  estimation  of  the  reader,  when  I  describe  his  person 
and  his  qualifications. 

Mr.  Phineas  Cophagus  might  have  been  about  forty-five 
years  of  age  when  I  first  had  the  honour  of  an  introduction  to 
him  in  the  receiving-room  of  the  Foundling  Hospital.  He  was 
of  the  middle  height,  his  face  was  thin,  his  nose  very  much 
hooked,  his  eyes  small  and  peering,  with  a  good-humoured 
twinkle  in  them,  his  mouth  large,  and  drawn  down  at  one 
corner.  He  was  stout  in  his  body,  and  carried  a  considerable 
protuberance  before  him,  which  he  was  in  the  habit  of  patting 
with  his  left  hand  very  complacently  ;  but  although  stout  in 
his  body,  his  legs  were  mere  spindles,  so  that,  in  his  appear- 
ance, he  reminded  you  of  some  bird  of  the  crane  genus. 
Indeed,  I  may  say,  that  his  whole  figure  gave  you  just  such  an 
impression  as  an  orange  might  do,  had  it  taken  to  itself  a 
couple  of  pieces  of  tobacco  pipes  as  vehicles  of  locomotion. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  black  coat  and  waistcoat,  white  cravat 
and  high  collar  to  his  shirt,  blue  cotton  net  pantaloons  and 
Hessian  boots,  both  fitting  so  tight,  that  it  appeared  as  if  he 
was  proud  of  his  spindle  shanks.  His  hat  was  broad-brimmed 
and  low,  and  he  carried  a  stout  black  cane  with  a  gold  top  in 
his  right  hand,  almost  always  raising  the  gold  top  to  his  nose 
when  he  spoke,  just  as  we  see  doctors  represented  at  a  con- 
sultation in  the  caricature  prints.  But  if  his  figure  was  strange, 
his  language  and  manners  were  still  more  so.  He  spoke,  as 

5 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

some  birds  fly,  in  jerks,  intermixing  his  words,  for  he  never 
completed  a  whole  sentence,  with  um — um — and  ending  it 
with  '  so  onj  leaving  his  hearers  to  supply  the  context  from 
the  heads  of  his  discourse.  Almost  always  in  motion,  he 
generally  changed  his  position  as  soon  as  he  had  finished 
speaking,  walking  to  any  other  part  of  the  room,  with  his  cane 


' Scrutinising  my  person,' 

to  his  nose,  and  his  head  cocked  on  one  side,  with  a  self- 
sufficient  tiptoe  gait.  When  I  was  ushered  into  his  presence, 
he  was  standing  with  two  of  the  governors.  'This  is  the 
lad,'  said  one  of  them,  *  his  name  is  Japhet? 

1  Japhet,'  replied   Mr.   Cophagus  ;   '  um,  scriptural — Shem, 
Ham,  um — and  so  on.      Boy  reads  ?  ' 

'Very  well,  and  writes  a  very  good  hand.      He  is  a  very 
good  boy,  Mr.  Cophagus.3 

6 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Read — write — spell — good,  and  so  on.  Bring  him  up — 
rudiments — spatula — write  labels — um — M.D.  one  of  these 
dayS  —  make  a  man  of  him  —  and  so  on,'  said  this  strange 
personage,  walking  round  and  round  me  with  his  cane  to  his 
nose,  and  scrutinising  my  person  with  his  twinkling  eyes.  I 
was  dismissed  after  this  examination  and  approval,  and  the 
next  day,  dressed  in  a  plain  suit  of  clothes,  was  delivered  by 
the  porter  at  the  shop  of  Mr.  Phineas  Cophagus,  who  was  not 
at  home  when  I  arrived. 


CHAPTER    II 

Like  all  tyros,  I  find  the  rudiments  of  learning  extremely  difficult  and 
laborious,  but  advance  so  rapidly  that  I  can  do  without  my  master. 

A  TALL,  fresh-coloured,  but  hectic-looking  young  man,  stood 
behind  the  counter,  making  up  prescriptions,  and  a  dirty  lad, 
about  thirteen  years  old,  was  standing  near  with  his  basket  to 
deliver  the  medicines  to  the  several  addresses,  as  soon  as  they 
were  ready.  The  young  man  behind  the  counter,  whose  name 
was  Brookes,  was  within  eighteen  months  of  serving  his  time, 
when  his  friends  intended  to  establish  him  on  his  own  account, 
and  this  was  the  reason  which  induced  Mr.  Cophagus  to  take 
me,  that  I  might  learn  the  business,  and  supply  his  place  when 
he  left.  Mr.  Brookes  was  a  very  quiet,  amiable  person,  kind 
to  me  and  the  other  boy  who  carried  out  the  medicines,  and 
who  had  been  taken  by  Mr.  Cophagus,  for  his  food  and 
raiment.  The  porter  told  Mr.  Brookes  who  I  was,  and  left 
me.  l  Do  you  think  that  you  will  like  to  be  an  apothecary  ? ' 
said  Mr.  Brookes  to  me,  with  a  benevolent  smile. 

'  Yes  ;  I  do  not  see  why  I  should  not,'  replied  I. 

'  Stop  a  moment,'  said  the  lad  who  was  waiting  with  the 
basket,  looking  archly  at  me,  'you  hav'n't  got  through  your 
rudimans  yet.' 

*  Hold  your  tongue,  Timothy,'  said  Mr.  Brookes.  '  That 
you  are  not  very  fond  of  the  rudiments,  as  Mr.  Cophagus  calls 
them,  is  very  clear.  Now  walk  off  as  fast  as  you  can  with 
these  medicines,  sir — 14  Spring  Street ;  16  Cleaver  Street,  as 
before  ;  and  then  to  John  Street,  5  5,  Mrs.  Smith's.  Do  you 
understand  ? ' 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  To  be  sure  I  do — can't  I  read  ?     I  reads  all  the  directions, 
and  all  your  Latin  stuff  into  the  bargain — all  your  summen 
dusses,  horez,  diez,  cockly  hairy.      I  mean  to  set  up  for  myself 
one  of  these  days.' 

'  I'll  knock  you  down  one  of  these  days,  Mr.  Timothy,  if 
you  stay  so  long  as  you  do,  looking  at  the  print  shops ;  that 
you  may  depend  upon.' 

4 1  keep  up  all  my  learning  that  way,'  replied  Timothy, 
walking  off  with  his  load,  turning  his  head  round  and  laughing 
at  me,  as  he  quitted  the  shop.  Mr.  Brookes  smiled,  but  said 
nothing. 

As  Timothy  went  out,  in  came  Mr.  Cophagus.  '  Heh ! 
Japhet — I  see,'  said  he,  putting  up  his  cane,  '  nothing  to  do — 
bad — must  work — um — and  so  on.  Mr.  Brookes — boy  learn 
rudiments — good — and  so  on.'  Hereupon  Mr.  Cophagus 
took  his  cane  from  his  nose,  pointed  to  the  large  iron  mortar, 
and  then  walked  away  into  the  back  parlour.  Mr.  Brookes 
understood  his  master,  if  I  did  not.  He  wiped  out  the  mortar, 
threw  in  some  drugs,  and,  showing  me  how  to  use  the  pestle, 
left  me  to  my  work.  In  half  an  hour  I  discovered  why  it  was 
that  Timothy  had  such  an  objection  to  what  Mr.  Cophagus 
facetiously  termed  the  rudiments  of  the  profession.  It  was 
dreadful  hard  work  for  a  boy ;  the  perspiration  ran  down  me 
in  streams,  and  I  could  hardly  lift  my  arms.  When  Mr. 
Cophagus  passed  through  the  shop  and  looked  at  me,  as  I 
continued  to  thump  away  with  the  heavy  iron  pestle,  '  Good,' 
— said  he,  'by  and  by — M.D. — and  so  on.'  I  thought  it  was 
a  very  rough  road  to  such  preferment,  and  I  stopped  to  take 
a  little  breath.  *  By  the  bye — Japhet — Christian  name — and 
so  on — sirname — heh  ! ' 

*  Mr.  Cophagus  wishes  to  know  your  other  name,'  said  Mr. 
Brookes,  interpreting. 

I  have  omitted  to  acquaint  the  reader  that  sirnames  as  well 
as  Christian  names  are  always  given  to  the  children  at  the 
Foundling,  and  in  consequence  of  the  bank  note  found  in  my 
basket,  I  had  been  named  after  the  celebrated  personage  whose 
signature  it  bore.  '  Newland  is  my  other  name,  sir,'  replied  I. 

*  Newland — heh  ! — very  good  name — everybody  likes   to 
see  that  name — and  have  plenty  of  them  in  his  pockets  too — 
um — very   comfortable — and   so  on,'   replied   Mr.   Cophagus, 
leaving  the  shop. 

8 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  resumed  my  thumping  occupation,  when  Timothy  returned 
with  his  empty  basket.  He  laughed  when  he  saw  me  at  work. 
'  Well,  how  do  you  like  the  rudimans  ? — and  so  on — heh  ? ' 
said  he,  mimicking  Mr.  Cophagus. 

'  Not  overmuch,'  replied  I,  wiping  my  face. 

'  That  was  my  job  before  you  came.  I  have  been  more 
than  a  year,  and  never  have  got  out  of  those  rudimans  yet, 
and  I  suppose  I  never  shall.' 

Mr.  Brookes,  perceiving  that  I  was  tired,  desired  me  to 
leave  off,  an  order  which  I  gladly  obeyed,  and  I  took  my  seat 
in  a  corner  of  the  shop. 

'  There,'  said  Timothy,  laying  down  his  basket ;  *  no  more 
work  for  me  hanty  prandium^  is  there,  Mr.  Brookes  ?' 

'  No,  Tim  ;  but  post  prandium^  you'll  post  off  again.' 

Dinner  being  ready,  and  Mr.  Cophagus  having  returned, 
he  and  Mr.  Brookes  went  into  the  back  parlour,  leaving 
Timothy  and  me  in  the  shop  to  announce  customers.  And  I 
shall  take  this  opportunity  of  introducing  Mr.  Timothy  more 
particularly,  as  he  will  play  a  very  conspicuous  part  in  this 
narrative.  Timothy  was  short  in  stature  for  his  age,  but  very 
strongly  built.  He  had  an  oval  face,  with  a  very  dark 
complexion,  grey  eyes  flashing  from  under  their  long  eye- 
lashes, and  eyebrows  nearly  meeting  each  other.  He  was 
marked  with  the  small-pox,  not  so  much  as  to  disfigure  him, 
but  still  it  was  very  perceptible  when  near  to  him.  His 
countenance  was  always  lighted  up  with  merriment ;  there 
was  such  a  happy,  devil-may-care  expression  in  his  face,  that 
you  liked  him  the  first  minute  that  you  were  in  his  company, 
and  I  was  intimate  with  him  immediately. 

'  I  say,  Japhet,'  said  he,  '  where  did  you  come  from  ? ' 

'  The  Foundling,'  replied  I. 

'  Then  you  have  no  friends  or  relations.' 

*  If  I  have,  I  do  not  know  where  to  find  them,'  replied  I, 
very  gravely. 

'  Pooh  !  don't  be  grave  upon  it.  I  hav'n't  any  either.  I 
was  brought  up  by  the  parish,  in  the  workhouse.  I  was  found 
at  the  door  of  a  gentleman's  house,  who  sent  me  to  the  over- 
seers— I  was  about  a  year  old  then.  They  call  me  a  foundling, 
but  I  don't  care  what  they  call  me,  so  long  as  they  don't  call 
me  too  late  for  dinner.  Father  and  mother,  whoever  they 
were,  when  they  run  away  from  me,  didn't  run  away  with  my 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

appetite.  I  wonder  how  long  master  means  to  play  with  his 
knife  and  fork.  As  for  Mr.  Brookes,  what  he  eats  wouldn't 
physic  a  snipe.  What's  your  other  name,  Japhet  ? ' 

'  Newland.' 

*  Newland — now  you  shall  have  mine  in  exchange  :  Timothy 
Oldmixon  at  your  service.  They  christened  me  after  the 
workhouse  pump,  which  had  "Timothy  Oldmixon  fecit"  on  it : 
and  the  overseers  thought  it  as  good  a  name  to  give  me  as 
any  other ;  so  I  was  christened  after  the  pump-maker  with 
some  of  the  pump  water.  As  soon  as  I  was  big  enough,  they 
employed  me  to  pump  all  the  water  for  the  use  of  the  work- 
house. I  worked  at  my  papa,  as  I  called  the  pump,  all  day 
long.  Few  sons  worked  their  father  more,  or  disliked  him  so 
much  ;  and  now,  Japhet,  you  see,  from  habit,  I'm  pumping  you.' 

1  You'll  soon  pump  dry,  then,  for  I've  very  little  to  tell  you,3 
replied  I  ;  '  but,  tell  me,  what  sort  of  a  person  is  our  master  ? ' 

'  He's  just  what  you  see  him,  never  alters,  hardly  ever  out 
of  humour,  and  when  he  is,  he  is  just  as  odd  as  ever.  He 
very  often  threatens  me,  but  I  have  never  had  a  blow  yet, 
although  Mr.  Brookes  has  complained  once  or  twice.' 

'  But  surely  Mr.  Brookes  is  not  cross  ? ' 

'  No,  he  is  a  very  good  gentleman  ;  but  sometimes  I  carry 
on  my  rigs  a  little  too  far,  I  must  say  that.  For  as  Mr. 
Brookes  says,  people  may  die  for  want  of  the  medicines,  be- 
cause I  put  down  my  basket  to  play.  It's  very  true  ;  but  I  can't 
give  up  "  peg  in  the  ring  "  on  that  account.  But  then  I  only 
get  a  box  of  the  ear  from  Mr.  Brookes,  and  that  goes  for  nothing. 
Mr.  Cophagus  shakes  his  stick,  and  says,  "  Bad  boy — big 
stick — um — won't  forget — next  time — and  so  on,"  '  continued 
Timothy,  laughing  ;  *  and  it  is  so  on,  to  the  end  of  the  chapter.' 

By  this  time  Mr.  Cophagus  and  his  assistant  had  finished 
their  dinner,  and  came  into  the  shop.  The  former  looked  at 
me,  put  his  stick  to  his  nose,  *  Little  boys — always  hungry — 
um — like  good  dinner — roast  beef — Yorkshire  pudding — and 
so  on,'  and  he  pointed  with  the  stick  to  the  back  parlour. 
Timothy  and  I  understood  him  very  well  this  time  :  we  went 
into  the  parlour,  when  the  housekeeper  sat  down  with  us,  and 
helped  us.  She  was  a  terribly  cross,  little  old  woman,  but  as 
honest  as  she  was  cross,  which  is  all  that  I  shall  say  in  her 
favour.  Timothy  was  no  favourite,  because  he  had  such  a 
good  appetite ;  and  it  appeared  that  I  was  not  very  likely  to 

10 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

stand  well  in  her  good  opinion,  for  I  also  ate  a  great  deal, 
and  every  extra  mouthful  I  took  I  sank  in  her  estimation,  till 
I  was  nearly  at  the  zero,  where  Timothy  had  long  been  for 
the  same  offence  ;  but  Mr.  Cophagus  would  not  allow  her  to  stint 
him,  saying,  '  Little  boys  must  eat — or  won't  grow — and  so 
on.' 

I  soon  found  out  that  we  were  not  only  well  fed,  but  in 
every  other  point  well  treated,  and  I  was  very  comfortable  and 
happy.  Mr.  Brookes  instructed  me  in  the  art  of  labelling  and 
tying  up,  and  in  a  very  short  time  I  was  very  expert ;  and  as 
Timothy  predicted,  the  rudiments  were  once  more  handed 
over  to  him.  Mr.  Cophagus  supplied  me  with  good  clothes, 
but  never  gave  me  any  pocket-money,  and  Timothy  and  I 
often  lamented  that  we  had  not  even  a  halfpenny  to  spend. 

Before  I  had  been  many  months  in  the  shop,  Mr.  Brookes 
was  able  to  leave  when  any  exigence  required  his  immediate 
attendance.  I  made  up  the  pills,  but  he  weighed  out  the 
quantities  in  the  prescriptions  ;  if,  therefore,  any  one  came  in 
for  medicines,  I  desired  them  to  wait  the  return  of  Mr.  Brookes, 
who  would  be  in  very  soon.  One  day,  when  Mr.  Brookes  was 
out,  and  I  was  sitting  behind  the  counter,  Timothy  sitting  on 
it,  and  swinging  his  legs  to  and  fro,  both  lamenting  that  we 
had  no  pocket  money,  Timothy  said,  'Japhet,  I've  been 
puzzling  my  brains  how  we  can  get  some  money,  and  I've  hit 
it  at  last ;  let  you  and  I  turn  doctors  ;  we  won't  send  all  the 
people  away  who  come  when  Mr.  Brookes  is  out,  but  we'll 
physic  them  ourselves.' 

I  jumped  at  the  idea,  and  he  had  hardly  proposed  it,  when 
an  old  woman  came  in,  and  addressing  Timothy,  said,  '  That 
she  wanted  something  for  her  poor  grandchild's  sore  throat.' 

I 1  don't  mix  up  the  medicines,  ma'am,'  replied  Timothy ; 
'you  must  apply  to  that  gentleman,   Mr.    Newland,  who   is 
behind  the  counter — he  understands  what  is  good  for  every- 
body's complaints.' 

*  Bless  his  handsome  face — and  so  young  too  !  Why,  be 
you  a  doctor,  sir  ? ' 

'  I  should  hope  so,'  replied  I  ;  '  what  is  it  you  require — a 
lotion,  or  an  embrocation  ? ' 

'  I  don't  understand  those  hard  words,  but  I  want  some 
doctor's  stuff.' 

1  Very  well,  my  good  woman ;  I  know  what  is  proper,' 
ii 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

replied  I,  assuming  an  important  air.     t  Here,  Timothy,  wash 
out  this  vial  very  clean.' 

*  Yes,  sir,'  replied  Timothy,  very  respectfully. 

I  took  one  of  the  measures,  and  putting  in  a  little  green,  a 
little  blue,  and  a  little  white  liquid  from  the  medicine  bottles 
generally  used  by  Mr.  Brookes,  filled  it  up  with  water,  poured 
the  mixture  into  the  vial,  corked  and  labelled  it,  hanstus  statim 
sumenduS)  and  handed  it  over  the  counter  to  the  old  woman. 

4  Is  the  poor  child  to  take  it,  or  is  it  to  rub  outside?' 
inquired  the  old  woman. 

'The  directions  are  on  the  label ; — but  you  don't  read  Latin  ?' 

*  Deary  me,  no !   Latin !   and  do   you  understand   Latin  ? 
what  a  nice  clever  boy  ! ' 

' 1  should  not  be  a  good  doctor  if  I  did  not,'  replied  I. 
On  second  thoughts,  I  considered  it  advisable  and  safer  that 
the  application  should  be  external^  so  I  translated  the  label  to 
her — llfaustusy  rub  it  in — statim^  on  the  throat — sumendus^ 
with  the  palm  of  the  hand.' 

*  Deary  me  !  and  does  it  mean  all  that  ?     How  much  have 
I  to  pay,  sir  ? ' 

'  Embrocation  is  a  very  dear  medicine,  my  good  woman  ; 
it  ought  to  be  eighteen-pence,  but  as  you  are  a  poor  woman, 
I  shall  only  charge  you  nine-pence.' 

4  I'm  sure  I  thank  you  kindly,'  replied  the  old  woman, 
putting  down  the  money,  and  wishing  me  a  good  morning  as 
she  left  the  shop. 

'  Bravo  ! '  cried  Timothy,  rubbing  his  hands  ;  *  it's  halves, 
Japhet,  is  it  not  ? ' 

'  Yes,'  I  replied ;  *  but  first  we  must  be  honest,  and  not 
cheat  Mr.  Cophagus ;  the  vial  is  sold,  you  know,  for  one 
penny,  and  I  suppose  the  stuff  I  have  taken  is  not  worth  a 
penny  more.  Now,  if  we  put  aside  two-pence  for  Mr.  Coph- 
agus, we  don't  cheat  him,  or  steal  his  property ;  the  other 
seven -pence  is  of  course  our  own — being  the  profits  of  the 
profession? 

'  But  how  shall  we  account  for  receiving  the  two-pence  ? ' 
said  Timothy. 

'  Selling  two  vials  instead  of  one  :  they  are  never  reckoned, 
you  know.' 

'  That  will  do  capitally,'  cried  Timothy ;  { and  now  for 
halves.'  But  this  could  not  be  managed  until  Timothy  had 

12 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

run  out  and  changed  the  sixpence  ;  we  then  each  had  our 
three-pence  halfpenny,  and  for  once  in  our  lives  could  say  that 
we  had  money  in  our  pockets. 


CHAPTER   III 

I  perform  a  wonderful  cure  upon  St.  John  Long's  principle,  having  little 
or  no  principle  of  my  own — I  begin  to  puzzle  my  head  with  a  problem, 
of  all  others  most  difficult  to  solve. 

THE  success  of  our  first  attempt  encouraged  us  to  proceed  ; 
but  afraid  that  I  might  do  some  mischief,  I  asked  of  Mr. 
Brookes  the  nature  and  qualities  of  the  various  medicines,  as 
he  was  mixing  the  prescriptions,  that  I  might  avoid  taking 
any  of  those  which  were  poisonous.  Mr.  Brookes,  pleased 
with  my  continual  inquiries,  gave  me  all  the  information  I 
could  desire,  and  thus  I  gained,  not  only  a  great  deal  of  in- 
formation, but  also  a  great  deal  of  credit  with  Mr.  Cophagus, 
to  whom  Mr.  Brookes  had  made  known  my  diligence  and 
thirst  for  knowledge. 

*  Good — very  good,'  said  Mr.  Cophagus  ;  '  fine  boy — learns 
his  business — M.D.  one  of  these  days — ride  in  his  coach — um, 
and  so  on.'  Nevertheless,  at  my  second  attempt,  I  made  an 
awkward  mistake,  which  very  near  led  to  detection.  An  Irish 
labourer,  more  than  half  tipsy,  came  in  one  evening,  and  asked 
whether  we  had  such  a  thing  as  was  called  1A  poor  maris 
plaster.  By  the  powers,  it  will  be  a  poor  man's  plaster  when 
it  belongs  to  me ;  but  they  tell  me  that  it  is  a  sure  and  sartain 
cure  for  the  thumbago,  as  they  call  it,  which  I've  at  the  small 
of  my  back,  and  which  is  a  hinder  to  my  mounting  up  the 
ladder ;  so  as  it's  Saturday  night,  and  I've  just  got  the  money, 
I'll  buy  the  plaster  first,  and  then  try  what  a  little  whisky 
inside  will  do  ;  the  devil's  in  it  if  it  won't  be  driven  out  of  me 
between  the  two.' 

We  had  not  that  plaster  in  the  shop,  but  we  had  blister 
plaster,  and  Timothy  handing  one  to  me,  I  proffered  it  to 
him.  '  And  what  may  you  be  after  asking  for  this  same  ? ' 
inquired  he. 

The  blister  plasters  were  sold  at  a  shilling  each,  when 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

spread  on  paper,  so   I   asked  him  eighteen -pence,   that  we 
might  pocket  the  extra  sixpence. 

I  By  the  powers,  one  would  think  that  you  had  made   a 
mistake,  and  handed  me  the  rich  man's  plaster  instead  of  the 
poor  one's.      It's  less  whisky  I'll  have  to  drink,  anyhow ;  but 
here's  the  money,  and  the  top  of  the  morning  to  ye,  seeing  as 
how  it's  jist  getting  late.' 

Timothy  and  I  laughed  as  we  divided  the  sixpence.  It 
appeared  that  after  taking  his  allowance  of  whisky,  the  poor 
fellow  fixed  the  plaster  on  his  back  when  he  went  to  bed,  and 
the  next  morning  found  himself  in  a  condition  not  to  be  envied. 
It  was  a  week  before  we  saw  him  again,  and  much  to  the 
horror  of  Timothy  and  myself,  he  walked  into  the  shop  when 
Mr.  Brookes  was  employed  behind  the  counter.  Timothy 
perceived  him  before  he  saw  us,  and  pulling  me  behind  the 
large  mortar,  we  contrived  to  make  our  escape  into  the  back 
parlour,  the  door  of  which  we  held  ajar  to  hear  what  would 
take  place. 

'  Murder  and  turf ! '  cried  the  man  ;  *  but  that  was  the 
devil's  own  plaster  that  you  gave  me  here  for  my  back,  and 
it  left  me  as  raw  as  a  turnip,  taking  every  bit  of  my  skin  off 
me  entirely,  forbye  my  lying  in  bed  for  a  whole  week,  and 
losing  my  day's  work.' 

I 1  really  do  not  recollect  supplying  you  with  a  plaster,  my 
good  man,'  replied  Mr.  Brookes. 

'  Then,  by  the  piper  that  played  before  Moses,  if  you  don't 
recollect  it,  I've  an  idea  that  I  shall  never  forget  it.  Sure 
enough,  it  cured  me,  but  wasn't  I  quite  kilt  before  I  was 
cured  ? ' 

'  It  must  have  been  some  other  shop,'  observed  Mr. 
Brookes.  *  You  have  made  a  mistake.' 

*  Devil  a  bit  of  mistake,  except  in  selling  me  the  plaster. 
Didn't  I  get  it  of  a  lad  in  this  same  shop  ? ' 

'  Nobody  sells  things  out  of  this  shop  without  my  knowledge.' 

The  Irishman  was  puzzled — he  looked  round  the  shop. 
'  Well,  then,  if  this  a'n't  the  shop,  it  was  own  sister  to  it.' 

'  Timothy,'  called  Mr.  Brookes. 

1  And  sure  enough  there  was  a  Timothy  in  the  other  shop, 
for  I  heard  the  boy  call  the  other  by  the  name ;  however,  it's 
no  matter  if  it  took  off  the  skin,  it  also  took  away  the  thumbago, 
so  the  morning  to  you,  Mr.  Pottykary.' 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

When  the  Irishman  departed,  we  made  our  appearance. 
'  Japhet,  did  you  sell  a  plaster  to  an  Irishman  ?' 

<  Yes — don't  you  recollect,  last  Saturday  ?  and  I  gave  you 
the  shilling.' 

'  Very  true  ;  but  what  did  he  ask  for  ? ' 

'  He  asked  for  a  plaster,  but  he  was  very  tipsy.  I  showed 
him  a  blister,  and  he  took  it ' ;  and  then  I  looked  at  Timothy 
and  laughed. 

1  You  must  not  play  such  tricks,'  said  Mr.  Brookes.  *  I  see 
what  you  have  been  about — it  was  a  joke  to  you,  but  not  to 
him.' 

Mr.  Brookes,  who  imagined  we  had  sold  it  to  the  Irishman 
out  of  fun,  then  gave  us  a  very  severe  lecture,  and  threatened 
to  acquaint  Mr.  Cophagus  if  ever  we  played  such  tricks  again. 
Thus  the  affair  blew  over,  and  it  made  me  very  careful ;  and, 
as  every  day  I  knew  more  about  medicines,  I  was  soon  able  to 
mix  them,  so  as  to  be  of  service  to  those  who  applied,  and 
before  eighteen  months  had  expired,  I  was  trusted  with  the 
mixing  up  of  all  the  prescriptions.  At  the  end  of  that  period 
Mr.  Brookes  left  us,  and  I  took  the  whole  of  his  department 
upon  myself,  giving  great  satisfaction  to  Mr.  Cophagus. 

And  now  that  I  have  announced  my  promotion,  it  will 
perhaps  be  as  well  that  I  give  the  reader  some  idea  of  my 
personal  appearance,  upon  which  I  have  hitherto  been  silent. 
I  was  thin,  between  fifteen  and  sixteen  years  old,  very  tall  for 
my  age,  and  of  my  figure  I  had  no  reason  to  be  ashamed ; 
a  large  beaming  eye,  with  a  slightly  aquiline  nose,  a  high  fore- 
head, fair  in  complexion,  but  with  very  dark  hair.  I  was 
always  what  may  be  termed  a  remarkably  clean-looking  boy, 
from  the  peculiarity  of  my  skin  and  complexion  ;  my  teeth 
were  small,  but  were  transparent,  and  I  had  a  very  deep  dimple 
in  my  chin.  Like  all  embryo  apothecaries,  I  carried  in  my 
appearance,  if  not  the  look  of  wisdom,  most  certainly  that  of 
self-sufficiency,  which  does  equally  well  with  the  world  in 
general.  My  forehead  was  smooth,  and  very  white,  and  my 
dark  locks  were  combed  back  systematically,  and  with  a 
regularity  that  said,  as  plainly  as  hair  could  do,  *  The  owner  of 
this  does  everything  by  prescription,  measurement,  and  rule.' 
With  my  long  fingers  I  folded  up  the  little  packets,  with  an 
air  as  thoughtful  and  imposing  as  that  of  a  minister  who  has 
just  presented  a  protocol  as  interminable  as  unintelligible  ;  and 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

the  look  of  solemn  sagacity  with  which  I  poured  out  the 
contents  of  one  vial  into  the  other,  would  have  well  become  the 
king's  physician,  when  he  watched  the  '  Lord's  anointed '  in 
articulo  •mortis. 

As  I  followed  up  my  saturnine  avocation,  I  generally  had 
an  open  book  on  the  counter  beside  me ;  not  a  marble-covered 
dirty  volume,  from  the  Minerva  press,  or  a  half-bound,  half- 
guinea's  worth  of  fashionable  trash,  but  a  good,  honest,  heavy- 
looking,  wisdom-implying  book,  horribly  stuffed  with  epithet  of 
drug ;  a  book  in  which  Latin  words  were  redundant,  and  here 
and  there  were  to  be  observed  the  crabbed  characters  of 
Greek.  Altogether,  with  my  book  and  my  look,  I  cut  such  a 
truly  medical  appearance,  that  even  the  most  guarded  would 
not  have  hesitated  to  allow  me  the  sole  conduct  of  a  whitlow, 
from  inflammation  to  suppuration,  and  from  suppuration  to 
cure,  or  have  refused  to  have  confided  to  me  the  entire 
suppression  of  a  gumboil.  Such  were  my  personal  qualifica- 
tions at  the  time  that  I  was  raised  to  the  important  office  of 
dispenser  of,  I  may  say,  life  and  death. 

It  will  not  surprise  the  reader  when  I  tell  him  that  I  was 
much  noticed  by  those  who  came  to  consult,  or  talk  with,  Mr. 
Cophagus.  '  A  very  fine  looking  lad  that,  Mr.  Cophagus,'  an 
acquaintance  would  say.  'Where  did  you  get  him — who  is 
his  father  ? ' 

c  Father ! '  Mr.  Cophagus  would  reply,  when  they  had 
gained  the  back  parlour,  but  I  could  overhear  him,  *  father, 
um — can't  tell — love — concealment — child  born — Foundling 
Hospital — put  out — and  so  on.3 

This  was  constantly  occurring,  and  the  constant  occurrence 
made  me  often  reflect  upon  my  condition,  which  otherwise  I 
might,  from  the  happy  and  even  tenor  of  my  life,  have  for- 
gotten. When  I  retired  to  my  bed  I  would  revolve  in  my 
mind  all  that  I  had  gained  from  the  governors  of  the  hospital 
relative  to  myself. — The  paper  found  in  the  basket  had  been 
given  to  me.  I  was  born  in  wedlock — at  least,  so  said  that 
paper.  The  sum  left  with  me  also  proved  that  my  parents 
could  not,  at  my  birth,  have  been  paupers.  The  very  peculiar 
circumstances  attending  my  case,  only  made  me  more  anxious 
to  know  my  parentage.  I  was  now  old  enough  to  be  aware 
of  the  value  of  birth,  and  I  was  also  just  entering  the  age  of 
romance,  and  many  were  the  strange  and  absurd  reveries  in 

16 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

which  I  indulged.  At  one  time  I  would  cherish  the  idea  that 
I  was  of  a  noble,  if  not  princely  birth,  and  frame  reasons  for 
concealment.  At  others  —  but  it  is  useless  to  repeat  the 
absurdities  and  castle  buildings  which  were  generated  in  my 
brain  from  mystery.  My  airy  fabrics  would  at  last  disappear, 
and  leave  me  in  all  the  misery  of  doubt  and  abandoned  hope. 
Mr.  Cophagus,  when  the  question  was  sometimes  put  to  him, 
would  say,  *  Good  boy — very  good  boy — don't  want  a  father.' 
But  he  was  wrong,  I  did  want  a  father ;  and  every  day  the 
want  became  more  pressing,  and  I  found  myself  continually 
repeating  the  question,  '  Who  is  my  father .?' 


CHAPTER    IV 

Very  much  puzzled  with  a  new  patient,  nevertheless  take  my  degree  at 
fifteen  as  an  M.  D.  ;  and  what  is  still  more  acceptable,  I  pocket  the 
fees. 

THE  departure  of  Mr.  Brookes,  of  course,  rendered  me  more 
able  to  follow  up  with  Timothy  my  little  professional  attempts 
to  procure  pocket-money ;  but  independent  of  these  pillages 
by  the  aid  of  pills,  and  making  drafts  upon  our  master's 
legitimate  profits,  by  the  assistance  of  draughts  from  his  shop, 
accident  shortly  enabled  me  to  raise  the  ways  and  means  in  a 
more  rapid  manner.  But  of  this  directly. 

In  the  meantime  I  was  fast  gaining  knowledge ;  every 
evening  I  read  surgical  and  medical  books,  put  into  my  hands 
by  Mr.  Cophagus,  who  explained  whenever  I  applied  to  him, 
and  I  soon  obtained  a  very  fair  smattering  of  my  profession. 
He  also  taught  me  how  to  bleed,  by  making  me,  in  the  first 
instance,  puncture  very  scientifically  all  the  larger  veins  of  a 
cabbage-leaf,  until  well  satisfied  with  the  delicacy  of  my  hand, 
and  the  precision  of  my  eye,  he  wound  up  his  instructions  by 
permitting  me  to  breathe  a  vein  in  his  own  arm. 

*  Well,'  said  Timothy,  when  he  first  saw  me  practising,  *  I 
have  often  heard  it  said,  there's  no  getting  blood  out  of  a 
turnip ;  but  it  seems  there  is  more  chance  with  a  cabbage.  I 
tell  you  what,  Japhet,  you  may  try  your  hand  upon  me  as 
much  as  you  please,  for  two-pence  a  go.' 

I  consented  to  this  arrangement,  and  by  dint  of  practising 
C  17 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

on  Timothy  over  and  over  again,  I  became  quite  perfect.  I 
should  here  observe,  that  my  anxiety  relative  to  my  birth 
increased  every  day,  and  that  in  one  of  the  books  lent  me  by 
Mr.  Cophagus,  there  was  a  dissertation  upon  the  human  frame, 
sympathies,  antipathies,  and  also  on  those  features  and  peculi- 
arities most  likely  to  descend  from  one  generation  to  another. 
It  was  there  asserted,  that  the  nose  was  the  facial  feature  most 
likely  to  be  transmitted  from  father  to  son.  As  I  before  have 
mentioned,  my  nose  was  rather  aquiline  ;  and  after  I  had  read 
this  book,  it  was  surprising  with  what  eagerness  I  examined 
the  faces  of  those  whom  I  met ;  and  if  I  saw  a  nose  upon  any 
man's  face,  at  all  resembling  my  own,  I  immediately  would 
wonder  and  surmise  whether  that  person  could  be  my  father. 
The  constant  dwelling  upon  the  subject  at  last  created  a  species 
of  monomania,  and  a  hundred  times  a  day  I  would  mutter  to 
myself,  '  Who  is  my  father?'  indeed,  the  very  bells,  when  they 
rung  a  peal,  seemed,  as  in  the  case  of  Whittington,  to  chime 
the  question,  and  at  last  I  talked  so  much  on  the  subject  to 
Timothy,  who  was  my  Fidus  Achates,  and  bosom  friend,  that 
I  really  believe,  partial  as  he  was  to  me,  he  wished  my  father 
at  the  devil. 

Our  shop  was  well  appointed  with  all  that  glare  and  glitter 
with  which  we  decorate  the  *  house  of  call '  of  disease  and 
death.  Being  situated  in  such  a  thoroughfare,  passengers 
would  stop  to  look  in,  and  ragged -vested,  and  in  other 
garments  still  more  ragged,  little  boys  would  stand  to  stare  at 
the  variety  of  colours,  and  the  'pottecary  gentleman,  your 
humble  servant,  who  presided  over  so  many  labelled-in-gold 
phalanxes  which  decorated  the  sides  of  the  shop. 

Among  those  who  always  stopped  and  gazed  as  she  passed 
by,  which  was  generally  three  or  four  times  a  day,  was  a  well- 
dressed  female,  apparently  about  forty  years  of  age,  straight  as 
an  arrow,  with  an  elasticity  of  step,  and  a  decision  in  her 
manner  of  walking,  which  was  almost  masculine,  although  her 
form,  notwithstanding  that  it  was  tall  and  thin,  was  extremely 
feminine  and  graceful.  Sometimes  she  would  fix  her  eyes  upon 
me,  and  there  was  a  wildness  in  her  looks,  which  certainly 
gave  a  painful  impression,  and  at  the  same  time  so  fascinated 
me,  that  when  I  met  her  gaze,  the  paper  which  contained  the 
powder  remained  unfolded,  and  the  arm  which  was  pouring 
out  the  liquid  suspended. 

18 


*  Passengers  would  stop  to  look  in. ' 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

She  was  often  remarked  by  Timothy,  as  well  as  me  ;  and 
we  further  observed,  that  her  step  was  not  equal  throughout 
the  day.  In  her  latter  peregrinations,  towards  the  evening, 
her  gait  was  more  vigorous,  but  unequal,  at  the  same  time 
that  her  gaze  was  more  steadfast.  She  usually  passed  the 
shop  for  the  last  time  each  day  about  five  o'clock  in  the  after- 
noon. 

One  evening,  after  we  had  watched  her  past,  as  we 
supposed,  to  return  no  more  till  the  ensuing  morning,  for  this 
peeping  in,  on  her  part,  had  become  an  expected  occurrence, 
and  afforded  much  amusement  to  Timothy,  who  designated 
her  as  the  'mad  woman,'  to  our  great  surprise,  and  to  the 
alarm  of  Timothy,  who  sprang  over  the  counter,  and  took  a 
position  by  my  side,  she  walked  into  the  shop.  Her  eye 
appeared  wild,  as  usual,  but  I  could  not  make  out  that  it  was 
insanity.  I  recovered  my  self-possession,  and  desired  Timothy 
to  hand  the  lady  a  chair,  begging  to  know  in  what  way  I 
could  be  useful.  Timothy  walked  round  by  the  end  of  the 
counter,  pushed  a  chair  near  to  her,  and  then  made  a  hasty 
retreat  to  his  former  position.  She  declined  the  chair  with  a 
motion  of  her  hand,  in  which  there  was  much  dignity,  as  well 
as  grace,  and  placing  upon  the  counter  her  hands,  which  were 
small  and  beautifully  white,  she  bent  forwards  towards  me, 
and  said,  in  a  sweet,  low  voice,  which  actually  startled  me  by 
its  depth  of  melody,  '  I  am  very  ill.' 

My  astonishment  increased.  Why,  I  know  not,  because 
the  exceptions  are  certainly  as  many  as  the  general  rule,  we 
always  form  an  estimate  of  the  voice  before  we  hear  it,  from 
the  outward  appearance  of  the  speaker ;  and  when  I  looked 
up  in  her  face,  which  was  now  exposed  to  the  glare  of  the 
argand  lamp,  and  witnessed  the  cadaverous,  pale,  chalky 
expression  on  it,  and  the  crow's  feet  near  the  eyes,  and  wrinkles 
on  her  forehead,  I  should  have  sooner  expected  to  have  heard 
a  burst  of  heavenly  symphony  from  a  thundercloud,  than  such 
music  as  issued  from  her  parted  lips. 

'  Good  heavens,  madam  ! '  said  I  eagerly  and  respectfully, 
'  allow  me  to  send  for  Mr.  Cophagus.' 

'  By  no  means,'  replied  she.  '  I  come  to  you.  I  am 
aware,'  continued  she  in  an  under  tone,  'that  you  dispense 
medicines,  give  advice,  and  receive  money  yourself.' 

I    felt    very  much   agitated,   and   the   blush   of  detection 

20 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

mounted  up  to  my  forehead.  Timothy,  who  heard  what  she 
said,  showed  his  uneasiness  in  a  variety  of  grotesque  ways. 
He  drew  up  his  legs  alternately,  as  if  he  were  dancing  on  hot 
plates  ;  he  slapped  his  pockets,  grinned,  clenched  his  fists, 
ground  his  teeth,  and  bit  his  lips  till  he  made  the  blood  come. 
At  last  he  sidled  up  to  me,  '  She  has  been  peeping  and  screw- 
ing those  eyes  of  hers  into  this  shop  for  something.  It's  all 
up  with  both  of  us,  unless  you  can  buy  her  off.' 

'  I  have,  madam,'  said  I,  at  last,  '  ventured  to  prescribe  in 
some  trivial  cases,  and,  as  you  say,  receive  money  when  my 
master  is  not  here  ;  but  I  am  entrusted  with  the  till.' 

'  I  know — I  know — you  need  not  fear  me.  You  are  too 
modest.  What  I  would  request  is,  that  you  would  prescribe 
for  me,  as  I  have  no  great  opinion  of  your  master's  talents.' 

1  If  you  wish  it,  madam,'  said  I,  bowing  respectfully. 

4  You  have  camphor  julep  ready  made  up,  have  you  not  ? ' 

'  Yes,  madam,'  replied  I. 

'  Then  do  me  the  favour  to  send  the  boy  with  a  bottle  to 
my  house  directly.'  I  handed  down  the  bottle,  she  paid  for  it, 
and  putting  it  into  Timothy's  hands,  desired  him  to  take  it  to 
the  direction  which  she  gave  him.  Timothy  put  on  his  hat, 
cocked  his  eye  at  me,  and  left  us  alone. 

4  What  is  your  name  ? '  said  she,  in  the  same  melodious 
voice. 

'Japhet  Newland,  madam,'  replied  I. 

'Japhet — it  is  a  good,  a  scriptural  name,'  said  the  lady, 
musing  in  half  soliloquy.  '  Newland — that  sounds  of  mam- 
mon.' 

*  This  mystery  is  unravelled,'  thought  I,  and  I  was  right  in 
my  conjectures.       '  She  is  some  fanatical  methodist ' ;  but    I 
looked  at  her  again,  and  her  dress  disclaimed  the  idea,  for  in 
it  there  was  much  taste  displayed. 

*  Who  gave  you  that  name  ? '  said  she,  after  a  pause. 

The  question  was  simple  enough,  but  it  stirred  up  a  host  of 
annoying  recollections  ;  but  not  wishing  to  make  a  confidant 
of  her,  I  gently  replied,  as  I  used  to  do  in  the  Foundling 
Hospital  on  Sunday  morning — '  My  godfathers  and  godmothers 
in  my  baptism,  ma'am.' 

*  My  dear  sir,  I  am  very  ill,'  said  she,  after  a  pause,  '  will 
you  feel  my  pulse  ? ' 

I  touched  a  wrist,  and  looked  at  a  hand  that  was  worthy  of 
21 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

being  admired.     What  a  pity,  thought  I,  that  she  should  be 
old,  ugly,  and  half  crazy  ! 

*  Do  you  not  think  that  this  pulse  of  mine  exhibits  consider- 
able nervous  excitement  ?     I  reckoned  it  this  morning,  it  was 
at  a  hundred  and  twenty.' 

*  It    certainly  beats    quick,'   replied    I,    '  but    perhaps    the 
camphor  julep  may  prove  beneficial.' 

*  I    thank  you  for  your  advice,  Mr.   Newland,'  said   she, 
laying  down  a  guinea,  'and   if  I  am  not  better,   I  will  call 
again,  or  send  for  you.      Good-night.' 

She  walked  out  of  the  shop,  leaving  me  in  no  small 
astonishment.  What  could  she  mean  ?  I  was  lost  in  reverie, 
when  Timothy  returned.  The  guinea  remained  on  the  counter. 

*  I  met  her  going  home,'  said  he.      *  Bless  me — a  guinea — 
why,  Japhet ! '     I  recounted  all  that  had  passed.      '  Well,  then, 
it  has  turned  out  well  for  us  instead  of  ill,  as  I  expected.' 

The  us  reminded  me  that  we  shared  profits  on  these  occa- 
sions, and  I  offered  Timothy  his  half;  but  Tim,  with  all  his 
espieglerie,  was  not  selfish,  and  he  stoutly  refused  to  take  his 
share.  He  dubbed  me  an  M.D.,  and  said  I  had  beaten  Mr. 
Cophagus  already,  for  he  had  never  taken  a  physician's  fee. 

'  I  cannot  understand  it,  Timothy,'  said  I,  after  a  few 
minutes'  thought. 

' 1  can,'  replied  Timothy.  « She  has  looked  in  at  the 
window  until  she  has  fallen  in  love  with  your  handsome  face ; 
that's  it,  depend  upon  it.'  As  I  could  find  no  other  cause, 
and  Tim's  opinion  was  backed  by  my  own  vanity,  I  imagined 
that  such  must  be  the  case.  '  Yes,  'tis  so,'  continued  Timothy, 
*  as  the  saying  is,  there's  money  bid  for  you.' 

*  I  wish  that  it  had  not  been  by  so  ill-favoured  a  person, 
at  all  events,  Tim,'  replied  I  ;  '  I  cannot  return  her  affection.' 

'  Never  mind  that,  so  long  as  you  don't  return  the  money.' 
The  next   evening  she  made  her  appearance,  bought,  as 
before,  a  bottle  of  camphor  julep — sent  Timothy  home  with  it, 
and  asking  my  advice,  paid  me  another  guinea. 

*  Really,  madam,'  said  I,  putting  it  back  towards  her,  *  I 
am  not  entitled  to  it.' 

*  Yes,  you  are,'  replied  she.      '  I  know  you  have  no  friends, 
and  I  also  know  that  you  deserve  them.     You  must  purchase 
books,  you  must   study,  or  you  never  will  be  a  great  man.' 
She  then  sat   down,   entered   into    conversation,   and   I   was 

22 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

struck  with  the  fire  and  vigour  of  the  remarks,  which  were 
uttered  in  such  a  melodious  tone. 

Her  visits,  during  a  month,  were  frequent,  and  every  time 
did  she  press  upon  me  a  fee.  Although  not  in  love  with  her 
person,  I  certainly  felt  very  grateful,  and  moreover  was 
charmed  with  the  superiority  of  her  mind.  We  were  now  on 
the  most  friendly  and  confiding  terms.  One  evening  she  said 
to  me,  *  Japhet,  we  have  now  been  friends  some  time.  Can  I 
trust  you  ? ' 

'  With  your  life,  if  it  were  necessary,'  replied  I. 

« I  believe  it,'  said  she.  '  Then  can  you  leave  the  shop  and 
come  to  me  to-morrow  evening  ? ' 

'  Yes,  if  you  will  send  your  maid  for  me,  saying  that  you 
are  not  well.' 

*  I  will,  at  eight  o'clock.     Farewell,  then,  till  to-morrow.' 


CHAPTER   V 

My  vanity  receives  a  desperate  wound,  but  my  heart  remains  unscathed — 
An  anomaly  in  woman,  one  who  despises  beauty. 

THE  next  evening  I  left  Timothy  in  charge,  and  repaired  to 
her  house ;  it  was  very  respectable  in  outward  appearance,  as 
well  as  its  furniture.  I  was  not,  however,  shown  up  into  the 
first  floor,  but  into  the  room  below. 

1  Miss  Judd  will  come  directly,  sir,'  said  a  tall,  meagre, 
puritanical-looking  maid,  shutting  the  door  upon  me.  In  a 
few  minutes,  during  which  my  pulse  beat  quick  (for  I  could 
not  but  expect  some  disclosure  ;  whether  it  was  to  be  one  of 
love  or  murder,  I  hardly  knew  which),  Miss  Aramathea  Judd, 
for  such  was  her  Christian  name,  made  her  appearance,  and 
sitting  down  on  the  sofa,  requested  me  to  take  a  seat  by  her. 

4  Mr.  Newland,'  said  she,  « I  wish  to — and  I  think  I  can 
entrust  you  with  a  secret  most  important  to  me.  Why  I  am 
obliged  to  do  it,  you  will  perfectly  comprehend  when  you  have 
heard  my  story.  Tell  me,  are  you  attached  to  me  ? ' 

This  was  a  home  question  to  a  forward  lad  of  sixteen.  I 
took  her  by  the  hand,  and  when  I  looked  down  on  it,  I  felt  as 
if  I  was.  I  looked  up  into  her  face,  and  felt  that  I  was  not. 

23 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

And,  as  I  now  was  close  to  her,  I  perceived  that  she  must 
have  some  aromatic  drug  in  her  mouth,  as  it  smelt  strongly — 
this  gave  me  the  supposition  that  the  breath  which  drew  such 
melodious  tones  was  not  equally  sweet,  and  I  felt  a  certain 
increased  degree  of  disgust. 

'  I  am  very  grateful,  Miss  Judd,'  replied  I  ;  '  I  hope  I  shall 
prove  that  I  am  attached  when  you  confide  in  me.' 

1  Swear  then,  by  all  that's  sacred,  you  will  not  reveal  what 
I  do  confide.' 

'  By  all  that's  sacred  I  will  not,'  replied  I,  kissing  her  hand 
with  more  fervour  than  I  expected  from  myself. 

'  Do  me  then  the  favour  to  excuse  me  one  minute.'  She 
left  the  room,  and  in  a  very  short  time,  there  returned,  in  the 
same  dress,  and  in  every  other  point  the  same  person,  but 
with  a  young  and  lively  face  of  not  more,  apparently,  than 
twenty-two  or  twenty-three  years  old.  I  started  as  if  I  had 
seen  an  apparition.  'Yes,'  said  she,  smiling,  'you  now  see 
Aramathea  Judd  without  disguise  ;  and  you  are  the  first  who 
has  seen  that  face  for  more  than  two  years.  Before  I  proceed 
further,  again  I  say,  may  I  trust  you — swear  ! ' 

*  I  do  swear,'  replied  I,  and  took  her  hand  for  the  book, 
which  this  time  I  kissed  with  pleasure,  over  and  over  again. 
Like  a   young  jackass   as   I  was,   I  still  retained  her  hand, 
throwing  as  much  persuasion  as  I  possibly  could  in  my  eyes. 
In  fact,  I   did   enough  to  have   softened  the  hearts  of  three 
bonnet-makers.      I  began  to  feel  most  dreadfully  in  love,  and 
thought  of  marriage,  and   making  my  fortune,    and    I   don't 
know  what ;   but  all  this  was  put  an  end  to  by  one  simple 
short   sentence,    delivered   in  a  very   decided  but  soft  voice, 
4  Japhet,  don't  be  silly.' 

I  was  crushed,  and  all  my  hopes  crushed  with  me.  I 
dropped  her  hand,  and  sat  like  a  fool. 

*  And  now  hear  me.      I  am,  as  you  must  have  already  found 
out,   an   impostor ;   that   is,   I    am  what   is   called  a  religious 
adventuress — a  new  term,  I  grant,  and  perhaps  only  applicable 
to  a  very  few.      My  aunt  was  considered,  by  a  certain  sect,  to 
be  a  great  prophetess,  which  I  hardly  need  tell  you  was  all 
nonsense  ;  nevertheless,  there  are  hundreds  who  believed   in 
her,  and  do  so  now.     Brought  up  with  my  aunt,  I  soon  found 
out  what  fools  and  dupes  may  be  made  of  mankind  by  taking 
advantage  of  their  credulity.     She  had  her  religious  inspira- 

24 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

tions,  her  trances,  and  her  convulsions,  and  I  was  always 
behind  the  scenes  ;  she  confided  in  me,  and  I  may  say  that  I 
was  her  only  confidant.  You  cannot,  therefore,  wonder  at  my 
practising  that  deceit  to  which  I  have  been  brought  up  from 
almost  my  infancy.  In  person  I  am  the  exact  counterpart  of 
what  my  aunt  was  at  my  age,  equally  so  in  figure,  although 
my  figure  is  now  disguised  to  resemble  that  of  a  woman  of 
her  age.  I  often  had  dressed  myself  in  my  aunt's  clothes, 
put  on  her  cap  and  front,  and  then  the  resemblance  was  very 
striking.  My  aunt  fell  sick  and  died,  but  she  promised  the 
disciples  that  she  would  reappear  to  them,  and  they  believed 
her.  I  did  not.  She  was  buried,  and  by  many  her  return  was 
anxiously  expected.  It  occurred  to  me  about  a  week  after- 
wards that  I  might  contrive  to  deceive  them.  I  dressed  in 
my  aunt's  clothes,  I  painted  and  disguised  my  face  as  you 
have  seen,  and  the  deception  was  complete,  even  to  myself,  as 
I  surveyed  my  countenance  in  the  glass.  I  boldly  set  off  in 
the  evening  to  the  tabernacle,  which  I  knew  they  still  frequented 
— came  into  the  midst  of  them,  and  they  fell  down  and 
worshipped  me  as  a  prophetess  risen  from  the  dead  ;  deceived, 
indeed,  by  my  appearance,  but  still  more  deceived  by  their 
own  credulity.  For  two  years  I  have  been  omnipotent  with 
them ;  but  there  is  one  difficulty  which  shakes  the  faith  of  the 
new  converts,  and  new  converts  I  must  have,  Japhet,  as  the 
old  ones  die,  or  I  should  not  be  able  to  fee  my  physician.  It 
is  this  :  by  habit  I  can  almost  throw  myself  into  a  stupor  or  a 
convulsion,  but  to  do  that  effectually,  to  be  able  to  carry  on 
the  deception  for  so  long  a  time,  and  to  undergo  the  severe 
fatigue  attending  such  violent  exertion,  it  is  necessary  that  I 
have  recourse  to  stimulants — do  you  understand  ? ' 

'I  do,'  replied  I  ;  '  I  have  more  than  once  thought  you 
under  the  influence  of  them  towards  the  evening.  I'm  afraid 
that  you  take  more  than  is  good  for  your  health.' 

'  Not  more  than  I  require  for  what  I  have  to  undergo  to 
keep  up  the  faith  of  my  disciples  ;  but  there  are  many  who 
waver,  some  who  doubt,  and  I  find  that  my  movements  are 
watched.  I  cannot  trust  the  woman  in  this  house.  I  think 
she  is  a  spy  set  upon  me,  but  I  cannot  remove  her,  as  this 
house,  and  all  which  it  contains,  are  not  mine,  but  belong  to 
the  disciples  in  general.  There  is  another  woman,  not  far  off, 
who  is  my  rival ;  she  calls  me  an  impostor,  and  says  that  she 

25 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

is  the  true  prophetess,  and  that  I  am  not  one.  This  will  be 
rather  difficult  for  her  to  prove,'  continued  she,  with  a  mocking 
smile.  '  Beset  as  I  am,  I  require  your  assistance  ;  for  you 
must  be  aware  that  it  is  rather  discreditable  to  a  prophetess, 
who  has  risen  from  the  dead,  to  be  seen  all  day  at  the  gin- 
shop,  yet  without  stimulants  now  I  could  not  exist.' 

*  And  how  can  I  assist  you  ? ' 

1  By  sending  me,  as  medicine,  that  which  I  dare  no  longer 
procure  in  any  other  way,  and  keeping  the  secret  which  I  have 
imparted.' 

'  I  will  do  both  with  pleasure ;  but  yet,'  said  I,  '  is  it  not  a 
pity,  a  thousand  pities,  that  one  so  young — and  if  you  will 
allow  me  to  add,  so  lovely,  should  give  herself  up  to  ardent 
spirits  ?  Why,'  continued  I,  taking  her  small  white  hand, 
'  why  should  you  carry  on  the  deception  :  why  sacrifice  your 

health,  and  I  may  say  your  happiness '  What  more  I 

might  have  said  I  know  not,  probably  it  might  have  been  an 
offer  of  marriage,  but  she  cut  me  short. 

'Why  does  everybody  sacrifice  their  health,  their  happi- 
ness, their  all,  but  for  ambition  and  the  love  of  power  ?  It  is 
true,  as  long  as  this  little  beauty  lasts,  I  might  be  courted  as 
a  woman,  but  never  should  I  be  worshipped  as — I  may  say — 
a  god.  No,  no,  there  is  something  too  delightful  in  that 
adoration,  something  too  pleasant  in  witnessing  a  crowd  of 
fools  stare,  and  men  of  three  times  my  age,  falling  down  and 
kissing  the  hem  of  my  garment.  This  is,  indeed,  adoration  ! 
the  delight  arising  from  it  is  so  great,  that  all  other  passions 
are  crushed  by  it — it  absorbs  all  other  feelings,  and  has  closed 
my  heart  even  against  love,  Japhet.  I  could  not,  I  would  not 
debase  myself,  sink  so  low  in  my  own  estimation,  as  to  allow 
so  paltry  a  passion  to  have  dominion  over  me ;  and,  indeed, 
now  that  I  am  so  wedded  to  stimulants,  even  if  I  were  no 
longer  a  prophetess,  it  never  could.' 

'  But  is  not  intoxication  one  of  the  most  debasing  of  all 
habits  ? ' 

'  I  grant  you,  in  itself,  but  with  me  and  in  my  situation  it 
is  different.  I  fall  to  rise  again,  and  higher.  I  cannot  be 
what  I  am  without  I  stimulate — I  cannot  stimulate  without 
stimulants,  therefore  it  is  but  a  means  to  a  great  and  glorious 
ambition.' 

I  had  more  conversation  with  her  before  I  left,  but  nothing 
26 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

appeared  to  move  her  resolution,  and  I  left  her,  lamenting, 
in  the  first  place,  that  she  had  abjured  love,  because,  notwith- 
standing the  orris  root,  which  she  kept  in  her  mouth  to  take 
away  the  smell  of  the  spirits,  I  found  myself  very  much  taken 
with  such  beauty  of  person,  combined  with  so  much  vigour  of 
mind  ;  and  in  the  second,  that  one  so  young  should  carry  on 
a  system  of  deceit  and  self-destruction.  When  I  rose  to  go 
away  she  put  five  guineas  in  my  hand  to  enable  me  to  purchase 
what  she  required.  '  Add  to  this  one  small  favour,'  said  I, 
4  Aramathea — allow  me  a  kiss.' 

*  A  kiss,'  replied  she,  with  scorn  ;  *  no,  Japhet,  look  upon 
me,  for  it  is  the  last  time  you  will  behold  my  youth  !  look 
upon  me  as  a  sepulchre,  fair  without  but  unsavory  and  rotten- 
ness within.  Let  me  do  you  a  greater  kindness,  let  me 
awaken  your  dormant  energies,  and  plant  that  ambition  in 
your  soul,  which  may  lead  to  all  that  is  great  and  good — a 
better  path  and  more  worthy  of  a  man  than  the  one  which  I 
have  partly  chosen,  and  partly  destiny  has  decided  for  me. 
Look  upon  me  as  your  friend  ;  although,  perhaps,  you  truly 
say,  no  friend  unto  myself.  Farewell — remember  that  to- 
morrow you  will  send  the  medicine  which  I  require.' 

I  left  her,  and  returned  home  :  it  was  late.  I  went  to  bed, 
and  having  disclosed  as  much  to  Timothy  as  I  could  safely 
venture  to  do,  I  fell  fast  asleep,  but  her  figure  and  her  voice 
haunted  me  in  my  dreams.  At  one  time,  she  appeared  before 
me  in  her  painted,  enamelled  face,  and  then  the  mask  fell  off, 
and  I  fell  at  her  feet  to  worship  her  extreme  beauty ;  then  her 
beauty  would  vanish,  and  she  would  appear  an  image  of 
loathsomeness  and  deformity,  and  I  felt  suffocated  with  the 
atmosphere  impregnated  with  the  smell  of  liquor.  I  would 
wake  and  compose  myself  again,  glad  to  be  rid  of  the  horrid 
dream,  but  again  would  she  appear,  with  a  hydra's  tail,  like 
Sin  in  Milton's  Paradise  Lost^  wind  herself  round  me,  her 
beautiful  face  gradually  changing  into  that  of  a  skeleton.  I 
cried  out  with  terror,  and  awoke  to  sleep  no  more,  and  effectu- 
ally cured  by  my  dream  of  the  penchant  which  I  felt  towards 
Miss  Aramathea  Judd. 


27 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER    VI 

My  prescriptions  very  effective  and  palatable,  but  I  lose  my  patient — The 
feud  equal  to  that  of  the  Montagues  and  the  Capulets — Results  different 
— Mercutio  comes  off  unhurt. 

THE  next  day  I  sent  Timothy  to  purchase  some  highly  rectified 
white  brandy,  which  I  coloured  with  a  blue  tincture,  and  added 
to  it  a  small  proportion  of  the  essence  of  cinnamon,  to  disguise 
the  smell ;  a  dozen  large  vials,  carefully  tied  up  and  sealed, 
were  despatched  to  her  abode.  She  now  seldom  called  unless 
it  was  early  in  the  morning  ;  I  made  repeated  visits  to  her 
house  to  receive  money,  but  no  longer  to  make  love.  One 
day  I  requested  permission  to  be  present  at  their  meeting,  and 
to  this  she  gave  immediate  consent ;  indeed  we  were  on  the 
most  intimate  terms,  and  when  she  perceived  that  I  no  longer 
attempted  to  play  the  fool,  I  was  permitted  to  remain  for 
hours  with  her  in  conversation.  She  had,  as  she  told  me  she 
intended,  re -enamelled  and  painted  her  face,  but  knowing 
what  beauty  was  concealed  underneath,  I  no  longer  felt  any 
disgust. 

Timothy  was  very  much  pleased  at  his  share  of  this 
arrangement,  as  he  seldom  brought  her  the  medicine  without 
pocketing  half-a-crown. 

For  two  or  three  months  everything  went  on  very  satis- 
factorily ;  but  one  evening,  Timothy,  who  had  been  sent  with 
the  basket  of  vials  for  Miss  Judd's  assistance,  returned  in  great 
consternation,  informing  me  that  the  house  was  empty.  He 
had  inquired  of  the  neighbours,  and  from  the  accounts  given, 
which  were  very  contradictory,  it  appeared  that  the  rival 
prophetess  had  marched  up  at  the  head  of  her  proselytes  the 
evening  before,  had  obtained  entrance,  and  that  a  desperate 
contention  had  been  the  result.  That  the  police  had  been 
called  in,  and  all  parties  had  been  lodged  in  the  watch-house ; 
that  the  whole  affair  was  being  investigated  by  the  magistrates, 
and  that  it  was  said  that  Miss  Judd  and  all  her  coadjutors 
would  be  sent  to  the  Penitentiary.  This  was  quite  enough  to 
frighten  two  boys  like  us  ;  for  days  afterwards  we  trembled 
when  people  came  into  the  shop,  expecting  to  be  summoned 

28 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

and  imprisoned.  Gradually,  however,  our  fears  were  dismissed, 
but  I  never  from  that  time  heard  anything  more  of  Miss 
Aramathea  Judd. 

After  this  affair,  I  adhered  steadily  to  my  business,  and 
profiting  by  the  advice  given  me  by  that  young  person,  im- 
proved rapidly  in  my  profession,  as  well  as  in  general 
knowledge ;  but  my  thoughts,  as  usual,  were  upon  one  subject 
— my  parentage,  and  the  mystery  hanging  over  it.  My 
eternal  reveries  became  at  last  so  painful,  that  I  had  recourse 
to  reading  to  drive  them  away,  and  subscribing  to  a  good 
circulating  library,  I  was  seldom  without  a  book  in  my  hand. 
By  this  time  I  had  been  nearly  two  years  and  a  half  with  Mr. 
Cophagus,  when  an  adventure  occurred  which  I  must  attempt 
to  describe  with  all  the  dignity  with  which  it  ought  to  be 
invested. 

This  is  a  world  of  ambition,  competition,  and  rivalry. 
Nation  rivals  nation,  and  flies  to  arms,  cutting  the  throats  of  a 
few  thousands  on  each  side  till  one  finds  that  it  has  the  worst 
of  it.  Man  rivals  man,  and  hence  detraction,  duels,  and 
individual  death.  Woman  rivals  woman,  and  hence  loss  of 
reputation  and  position  in  high,  and  loss  of  hair,  and  fighting 
with  pattens  in  low,  life.  Are  we  then  to  be  surprised  that 
this  universal  passion,  undeterred  by  the  smell  of  drugs  and 
poisonous  compounds,  should  enter  into  apothecaries'  shops  ? 
But  two  streets — two  very  short  streets  from  our  own — was 
situated  the  single -fronted  shop  of  Mr.  Ebenezer  Pleggit. 
Thank  Heaven,  it  was  only  single -fronted  ;  there,  at  least, 
we  had  the  ascendency  over  them.  Upon  other  points,  our 
advantages  were  more  equally  balanced.  Mr.  Pleggit  had  two 
large  coloured  bottles  in  his  windows  more  than  we  had  ;  but 
then  we  had  two  horses,  and  he  had  only  one.  He  tied  over 
the  corks  of  his  bottles  with  red-coloured  paper ;  we  covered 
up  the  lips  of  our  vials  with  delicate  blue.  It  certainly  was 
the  case — for  though  an  enemy  I'll  do  him  justice — that,  after 
Mr.  Brookes  had  left  us,  Mr.  Pleggit  had  two  shopmen,  and 
Mr.  Cophagus  only  one  ;  but  then  that  one  was  Mr.  Japhet 
Newland  ;  besides,  one  of  his  assistants  had  only  one  eye,  the 
other  squinted  horribly,  so  if  we  measured  by  eyes,  I  think 
the  advantage  was  actually  on  our  side ;  and,  as  far  as 
ornament  went,  most  decidedly ;  for  who  would  not  prefer 
putting  on  his  chimney-piece  one  handsome,  elegant  vase, 

29 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

than  two  damaged,  ill-looking  pieces  of  crockery?  Mr. 
Pleggit  had  certainly  a  gilt  mortar  and  pestle  over  his  door, 
which  Mr.  Cophagus  had  omitted  when  he  furnished  his  shop ; 
but  then  the  mortar  had  a  great  crack  down  the  middle,  and 
the  pestle  had  lost  its  knob.  And  let  me  ask  those  who  have 
been  accustomed  to  handle  it,  what  is  a  pestle  without  a  knob  ? 
On  the  whole,  I  think,  with  the  advantage  of  having  two 
fronts,  like  Janus,  we  certainly  had  the  best  of  the  comparison  ; 
but  I  shall  leave  the  impartial  to  decide. 

All  I  can  say  is,  that  the  feuds  of  the  rival  houses  were 
most  bitter — the  hate  intense — the  mutual  scorn  unmeasurable. 
Did  Mr.  Ebenezer  Pleggit  meet  Mr.  Phineas  Cophagus  in  the 
street,  the  former  immediately  began  to  spit  as  if  he  had 
swallowed  some  of  his  own  vile  adulterated  drugs ;  and  in 
rejoinder,  Mr.  Cophagus  immediately  raised  the  cane  from  his 
nose  high  above  his  forehead  in  so  threatening  an  attitude  as 
almost  to  warrant  the  other  swearing  the  peace  against  him, 
muttering,  '  Ugly  puppy — knows  nothing — um — patients  die 
— and  so  on.' 

It  may  be  well  supposed  that  this  spirit  of  enmity  extended 
through  the  lower  branches  of  the  rival  houses — the  assistants 
and  I  were  at  deadly  feud ;  and  this  feud  was  even  more 
deadly  between  the  boys  who  carried  out  the  medicines,  and 
whose  baskets  might,  in  some  measure,  have  been  looked  upon 
as  the  rival  ensigns  of  the  parties,  they  themselves  occupying 
the  dangerous  and  honourable  post  of  standard-bearers. 

Timothy,  although  the  kindest-hearted  fellow  in  the  world, 
was  as  good  a  hater  as  Dr.  Johnson  himself  could  have  wished 
to  meet  with  ;  and  when  sometimes  his  basket  was  not  so  well 
filled  as  usual,  he  would  fill  it  up  with  empty  bottles  below, 
rather  than  that  the  credit  of  the  house  should  be  suspected, 
and  his  deficiencies  create  a  smile  of  scorn  in  the  mouth  of 
his  red-haired  antagonist,  when  they  happened  to  meet  going 
their  rounds.  As  yet,  no  actual  collision  had  taken  place 
between  either  the  principals  or  the  subordinates  of  the  hostile 
factions  ;  but  it  was  fated  that  this  state  of  quiescence  should 
no  longer  remain. 

Homer  has  sung  the  battles  of  gods,  demigods,  and  heroes  ; 
Milton  the  strife  of  angels.  Swift  has  been  great  in  his  Battle 
of  the  Books  ;  but  I  am  not  aware  that  the  battle  of  the  vials 
has  as  yet  been  sung ;  and  it  requires  a  greater  genius  than 

30 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

was  to  be  found  in  those  who  portrayed  the  conflicts  of  heroes, 
demigods,  gods,  angels,  or  books,  to  do  adequate  justice  to 
the  mortal  strife  which  took  place  between  the  lotions,  potions, 
draughts,  pills,  and  embrocations.  I  must  tell  the  story  as 
well  as  I  can,  leaving  it  as  an  outline  for  a  future  epic. 

Burning  with  all  the  hate  which  infuriated  the  breasts  of  the 
two  houses  of  Capulet  and  Montagu,  hate  each  day  increasing 
from  years  of  '  biting  thumbs '  at  each  other,  and  yet  no  excuse 
presenting  itself  for  an  affray,  Timothy  Oldmixon — for  on  such 
an  occasion  it  would  be  a  sin  to  omit  his  whole  designation — 
Timothy  Oldmixon,  I  say,  burning  with  hate  and  eager  with 
haste,  turning  a  corner  of  the  street  with  his  basket  well  filled 
with  medicines  hanging  on  his  left  arm,  encountered,  equally 
eager  in  his  haste,  and  equally  burning  in  his  hate,  the  red- 
haired  Mercury  of  Mr.  Ebenezer  Pleggit.  Great  was  the 
concussion  of  the  opposing  baskets,  dire  was  the  crash  of 
many  of  the  vials,  and  dreadful  was  the  mingled  odour  of  the 
abominations  which  escaped,  and  poured  through  the  wicker 
interstices.  Two  ladies  from  Billingsgate,  who  were  near, 
indulging  their  rhetorical  powers,  stopped  short.  Two  tom- 
cats, who  were  on  an  adjacent  roof,  just  fixing  their  eyes  of 
enmity,  and  about  to  fix  their  claws,  turned  their  eyes  to  the 
scene  below.  Two  political  antagonists  stopped  their  noisy 
arguments.  Two  dustmen  ceased  to  ring  their  bells  ;  and 
two  little  urchins  eating  cherries  from  the  crowns  of  their  hats, 
lost  sight  of  their  fruit,  and  stood  aghast  with  fear.  They 
met,  and  met  with  such  violence,  that  they  each  rebounded 
many  paces  ;  but  like  stalwart  knights,  each  kept  his  basket 
and  his  feet.  A  few  seconds  to  recover  breath  ;  one  withering, 
fiery  look  from  Timothy,  returned  by  his  antagonist,  one  flash 
of  the  memory  in  each  to  tell  them  that  they  each  had  the  la 
on  their  side,  and  *  Take  that ! '  was  roared  by  Timothy, 
planting  a  well-directed  blow  with  his  dexter  and  dexterous 
hand  upon  the  sinister  and  sinisterous  eye  of  his  opponent. 
4  Take  that ! '  continued  he,  as  his  adversary  reeled  back ; 
4  take  that,  and  be  d — d  to  you,  for  running  against  a 
gentleman? 

He  of  the  rubicund  hair  had  retreated,  because  so  violent 
was  the  blow  he  could  not  help  so  doing,  and  we  all  must 
yield  to  fate.  But  it  was  not  from  fear.  Seizing  a  vile 
potation  that  was  labelled  'To  be  taken  immediately,'  and 


'  Great  was  the  conclusion.' 
Copyright  1894  by  Macmttlan  &•  Co. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

hurling  it  with  demoniacal  force  right  on  the  chops  of  the 
courageous  Timothy,  '  Take  that ! '  cried  he  with  a  rancorous 
yell.  This  missile,  well  directed  as  the  spears  of  Homer's 
heroes,  came  full  upon  the  bridge  of  Timothy's  nose,  and  the 
fragile  glass  shivering,  inflicted  divers  wounds  upon  his 
physiognomy,  and  at  the  same  time  poured  forth  a  dark 
burnt- sienna- coloured  balsam,  to  heal  them,  giving  pain 
unutterable.  Timothy,  disdaining  to  lament  the  agony  of  his 
wounds,  followed  the  example  of  his  antagonist,  and  hastily 
seizing  a  similar  bottle  of  much  larger  dimensions,  threw  it 
with  such  force  that  it  split  between  the  eyes  of  his  opponent. 
Thus  with  these  dreadful  weapons  did  they  commence  the 
mortal  strife. 

The  lovers  of  good  order,  or  at  least  of  fair  play,  gathered 
round  the  combatants,  forming  an  almost  impregnable  ring, 
yet  of  sufficient  dimensions  to  avoid  the  missiles.  *  Go  it, 
red-head. /'  '•Bravo!  white  apron /'  resounded  on  every  side. 
Draughts  now  met  draughts  in  their  passage  through  the 
circumambient  air,  and  exploded  like  shells  over  a  besieged 
town.  Boluses  were  fired  with  the  precision  of  cannon-shot, 
pill-boxes  were  thrown  with  such  force  that  they  burst  like 
grape  and  canister,  while  acids  and  alkalies  hissed,  as  they 
neutralised  each  other's  power,  with  all  the  venom  of  expiring 
snakes.  '  Bravo  !  white  apron  ! '  *  Red-head  for  ever ! ' 
resounded  on  every  side  as  the  conflict  continued  with 
unabated  vigour.  The  ammunition  was  fast  expending  on 
both  sides,  when  Mr.  Ebenezer  Pleggit,  hearing  the  noise,  and 
perhaps  smelling  his  own  drugs,  was  so  unfortunately  rash 
and  so  unwisely  foolhardy  as  to  break  through  the  sacred  ring, 
advancing  from  behind  with  uplifted  cane  to  fell  the  redoubt- 
able Timothy,  when  a  mixture  of  his  own,  hurled  by  his  own 
red-haired  champion,  caught  him  in  his  open  mouth,  breaking 
against  his  only  two  remaining  front  teeth,  extracting  them  as 
the  discharged  liquid  ran  down  his  throat,  and  turning  him  as 
sick  as  a  dog.  He  fell,  was  taken  away  on  a  shutter,  and  it 
was  some  days  before  he  was  again  to  be  seen  in  his  shop, 
dispensing  those  medicines  which,  on  this  fatal  occasion,  he 
would  but  too  gladly  have  dispensed  with. 

Reader,  have  you  not  elsewhere  read  in  the  mortal  fray 
between  knights,  when  the  casque  has  been  beaten  off,  the 
shield  lost,  and  the  sword  shivered,  how  they  have  resorted  to 

D  33 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

closer  and  more  deadly  strife  with  their  daggers  raised  on 
high  ?  Thus  it  was  with  Timothy  :  his  means  had  failed,  and 
disdaining  any  longer  to  wage  a  distant  combat,  he  closed 
vigorously  with  his  panting  enemy,  overthrew  him  in  the  first 
struggle,  seizing  from  his  basket  the  only  weapons  which 
remained,  one  single  vial,  and  one  single  box  of  pills.  As  he 
sat  upon  his  prostrate  foe,  first  he  forced  the  box  of  pills  into 
his  gasping  mouth,  and  then  with  the  lower  end  of  the  vial  he 
drove  it  down  his  throat,  as  a  gunner  rams  home  the  wad  and 
shot  into  a  thirty-two  pound  carronade.  Choked  with  the  box, 
the  fallen  knight  held  up  his  hands  for  quarter ;  but  Timothy 
continued  until  the  end  of  the  vial,  breaking  out  the  top  and 
bottom  of  the  pasteboard  receptacle,  forty-and-eight  of  anti- 
bilious  pills  rolled  in  haste  down  Red-head's  throat.  Timothy 
then  seized  his  basket,  and  amid  the  shouts  of  triumph,  walked 
away.  His  fallen-crested  adversary  coughed  up  the  remnants 
of  the  pasteboard,  once  more  breathed,  and  was  led  disconso- 
late to  the  neighbouring  pump ;  while  Timothy  regained  our 
shop  with  his  blushing  honours  thick  upon  him. 

But  I  must  drop  the  vein  heroical.  Mr.  Cophagus,  who 
was  at  home  when  Timothy  returned,  was  at  first  very  much 
inclined  to  be  wroth  at  the  loss  of  so  much  medicine ;  but 
when  he  heard  the  story,  and  the  finale,  he  was  so  pleased  at 
Tim's  double  victory  over  Mr.  Pleggit  and  his  messenger,  that 
he  actually  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  and  pulled  out  half- 
a-crown. 

Mr.  Pleggit,  on  the  contrary,  was  anything  but  pleased  ; 
he  went  to  a  lawyer,  and  commenced  an  action  for  assault 
and  battery,  and  all  the  neighbourhood  did  nothing  but  talk 
about  the  affray  which  had  taken  place,  and  the  action  at  law 
which  it  was  said  would  take  place  in  the  ensuing  term. 

But  with  the  exception  of  this  fracas,  which  ended  in  the 
action  not  holding  good,  whereby  the  animosity  was  increased, 
I  have  little  to  recount  during  the  remainder  of  the  time  I 
served  under  Mr.  Cophagus.  I  had  been  more  than  three 
years  with  him  when  my  confinement  became  insupportable. 
I  had  but  one  idea,  which  performed  an  everlasting  cycle  in 
my  brain — Who  was  my  father  ?  And  I  should  have  aban- 
doned the  profession  to  search  the  world  in  the  hope  of  finding 
my  progenitor,  had  it  not  been  that  I  was  without  the  means. 
Latterly,  I  had  hoarded  up  all  I  could  collect ;  but  the  sum 

34 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

was  small,  much  too  small  for  the  proposed  expedition.  I 
became  melancholy,  indifferent  to  the  business,  and  slovenly 
in  my  appearance,  when  a  circumstance  occurred  which  put 
an  end  to  my  further  dispensing  medicines,  and  left  me  a  free 
agent. 


CHAPTER   VII 

Looking  out  for  business  not  exactly  minding  your  own  business — The 
loss  of  the  scales  occasions  the  loss  of  place  to  Timothy  and  me,  who 
when  weighed  in  other  scales  were  found  wanting — We  bundle  off 
with  our  bundles  on. 

IT  happened  one  market-day  that  there  was  an  over-driven, 
infuriated  beast,  which  was  making  sad  havoc.  Crowds  of 
people  were  running  past  our  shop  in  one  direction,  and  the 
cries  of  '  Mad  bull ! '  were  re-echoed  in  every  quarter.  Mr. 
Cophagus,  who  was  in  the  shop,  and  to  whom,  as  I  have 
before  observed,  a  mad  bull  was  a  source  of  great  profit,  very 
naturally  looked  out  of  the  shop  to  ascertain  whether  the 
animal  was  near  to  us.  Ln  most  other  countries,  when  people 
hear  of  any  danger,  they  generally  avoid  it  by  increasing  their 
distance  ;  but  in  England,  it  is  too  often  the  case,  that  they 
are  so  fond  of  indulging  their  curiosity,  that  they  run  to  the 
danger.  Mr.  Cophagus,  who  perceived  the  people  running 
one  way,  naturally  supposed,  not  being  aware  of  the  extreme 
proximity  of  the  animal,  that  the  people  were  running  to  see 
what  was  the  matter,  and '  turned  his  eyes  in  that  direction, 
walking  out  on  the  pavement  that  he  might  have  a  fairer  view. 
He  was  just  observing,  *  Can't  say — fear — um — rascal  Pleggit 
— close  to  him — get  all  the  custom — wounds — contusions — 

and '  when  the  animal  came  suddenly  round  the  corner 

upon  Mr.  Cophagus,  who  had  his  eyes  the  other  way,  and 
before  he  could  escape,  tossed  him  through  his  own  shop 
windows,  and  landed  him  on  the  counter.  Not  satisfied  with 
this,  the  beast  followed  him  into  the  shop.  Timothy  and  I 
pulled  Mr.  Cophagus  over  towards  us,  and  he  dropped  inside 
the  counter,  where  we  also  crouched,  frightened  out  of  our 
wits.  To  our  great  horror  the  bull  made  one  or  two  attempts 
to  leap  the  counter ;  but  not  succeeding,  and  being  now 

35 


1  The  bull  made  one  or  two  attempts  to  leap  the  counter' 
Cofyright  1894  by  Macmillan  &•  Co. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

attacked  by  the  dogs  and  butcher  boys,  he  charged  at  them 
through  the  door,  carrying  away  our  best  scales  on  his  horns 
as  a  trophy,  as  he  galloped  out  of  the  shop  in  pursuit  of  his 
persecutors.  When  the  shouts  and  hallooes  were  at  some 
little  distance,  Timothy  and  I  raised  our  heads  and  looked 
round  us ;  and  perceiving  that  all  was  safe,  we  proceeded  to 
help  Mr.  Cophagus,  who  remained  on  the  floor  bleeding,  and 
in  a  state  of  insensibility.  We  carried  him  into  the  back 
parlour  and  laid  him  on  the  sofa.  I  desired  Timothy  to  run 
for  surgical  aid  as  fast  as  he  could,  while  I  opened  a  vein ; 
and  in  a  few  minutes  he  returned  with  our  opponent,  Mr. 
Ebenezer  Pleggit.  We  stripped  Mr.  Cophagus,  and  proceeded 
to  examine  him.  '  Bad  case  this — very  bad  case,  indeed,  Mr. 
Newland — dislocation  of  the  os  humeri — severe  contusion  on 
the  os  frontis — and  I'm  very  much  afraid  there  is  some  inter- 
costal injury.  Very  sorry,  very  sorry,  indeed,  for  my  brother 
Cophagus.'  But  Mr.  Pleggit  did  not  appear  to  be  sorry ;  on 
the  contrary,  he  appeared  to  perform  his  surgical  duties  with 
the  greatest  glee. 

We  reduced  the  dislocation,  and  then  carried  Mr.  Cophagus 
up  to  his  bed.  In  an  hour  he  was  sensible  ;  and  Mr.  Pleggit 
took  his  departure,  shaking  hands  with  Mr.  Cophagus,  and 
wishing  him  joy  of  his  providential  escape.  *  Bad  job,  Japhet,' 
said  Mr.  Cophagus  to  me. 

'  Very  bad,  indeed,  sir ;  but  it  might  have  been  worse.' 
'  Worse — um — no,  nothing  worse — not  possible.' 

*  Why,  sir,  you  might  have  been  killed.' 

*  Pooh  !   didn't  mean  that — mean   Pleggit — rascal — um — 
kill  me  if  he  can — shan't  though — soon  get  rid  of  him — and 
so  on.' 

'  You  will  not  require  his  further  attendance  now  that  your 
shoulder  is  reduced.  I  can  very  well  attend  upon  you.' 

*  Very  true,  Japhet ; — but  won't  go — sure  of  that — damned 
rascal — quite  pleased — I  saw  it — um — eyes  twinkled — smile 
checked — and  so  on.' 

That  evening  Mr.  Pleggit  called  in  as  Mr.  Cophagus  said 
that  he  would,  and  the  latter  showed  a  great  deal  of  im- 
patience ;  but  Mr.  Pleggit  repeated  his  visits  over  and  over 
again,  and  I  observed  that  Mr.  Cophagus  no  longer  made  any 
objection  ;  on  the  contrary,  seemed  anxious  for  his  coming, 
and  still  more  so,  after  he  was  convalescent,  and  able  to  sit  at 

37 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

his  table.  But  the  mystery  was  soon  divulged.  It  appeared 
that  Mr.  Cophagus,  although  he  was  very  glad  that  other 
people  should  suffer  from  mad  bulls,  and  come  to  be  cured, 
viewed  the  case  in  a  very  different  light  when  the  bull  thought 
proper  to  toss  him,  and  having  now  realised  a  comfortable 
independence,  he  had  resolved  to  retire  from  business,  and 
from  a  site  attended  with  so  much  danger.  A  hint  of  this 
escaping  him  when  Mr.  Pleggit  was  attending  him  on  the 
third  day  after  his  accident,  the  latter,  who  knew  the  value  of 
the  locale,  also  hinted  that  if  Mr.  Cophagus  was  inclined  so  to 
do,  that  he  would  be  most  happy  to  enter  into  an  arrangement 
with  him.  Self-interest  will  not  only  change  friendship  into 
enmity,  in  this  rascally  world,  but  also  turn  enmity  into  friend- 
ship. All  Mr.  Pleggit's  enormities,  and  all  Mr.  Cophagus's 
shameful  conduct,  were  mutually  forgotten.  In  less  than  ten 
minutes  it  was  'My  dear  Mr.  Pleggit,  and  so  on,'  and  '  My 
dear  brother  Cophagus? 

In  three  weeks  everything  had  been  arranged  between 
them,  and  the  shop,  fixtures,  stock  in  trade,  and  good  will, 
were  all  the  property  of  our  ancient  antagonist.  But  although 
Mr.  Pleggit  could  shake  hands  with  Mr.  Cophagus  for  his 
fixtures  and  good  will,  yet  as  Timothy  and  I  were  not  in- 
cluded in  the  good  will,  neither  were  we  included  among  the 
fixtttres,  and  Mr.  Cophagus  could  not,  of  course,  interfere 
with  Mr.  Pleggit's  private  arrangements.  He  did  all  he  could 
do  in  the  way  of  recommendation  ;  but  Mr.  Pleggit  had  not 
forgotten  my  occasional  impertinences  or  the  battle  of  the 
bottles.  I  really  believe  that  his  ill  will  against  Timothy  was 
one  reason  for  purchasing  the  good  will  of  Mr.  Cophagus  ; 
and  we  were  very  gently  told  by  Mr.  Pleggit  that  he  would 
have  no  occasion  for  our  services. 

Mr.  Cophagus  offered  to  procure  me  another  situation  as 
soon  as  he  could,  and  at  the  same  time  presented  me  with 
twenty  guineas,  as  a  proof  of  his  regard  and  appreciation  of  my 
conduct — but  this  sum  put  in  my  hand  decided  me  :  I  thanked 
him,  and  told  him  I  had  other  views  at  present,  but  hoped  he 
would  let  me  know  where  I  might  find  him  hereafter,  as  I 
should  be  glad  to  see  him  again.  He  told  me  he  would  leave 
his  address  for  me  at  the  Foundling  Hospital,  and  shaking  me 
heartily  by  the  hand,  we  parted.  Timothy  was  then  summoned. 
Mr.  Cophagus  gave  him  five  guineas,  and  wished  him  good  fortune. 

38 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  And  now,  Japhet,  what  are  you  about  to  do  ? '  said 
Timothy,  as  he  descended  into  the  shop. 

'  To  do,'  replied  I  ;  '  I  am  about  to  leave  you,  which  is  the 
only  thing  I  am  sorry  for.  I  am  going,  Timothy,  in  search  of 
my  father.' 

'  Well,'  replied  Timothy,  '  I  feel  as  you  do,  Japhet,  that  it 
will  be  hard  to  part ;  and  there  is  another  thing  on  my  mind 
— which  is,  I  am  very  sorry  that  the  bull  did  not  break  the 
rudimans  (pointing  to  the  iron  mortar  and  pestle)  ;  had  he  had 
but  half  the  spite  I  have  against  it,  he  would  not  have  left  a 
piece  as  big  as  a  thimble.  I've  a  great  mind  to  have  a  smack 
at  it  before  I  go.' 

'You  will  only  injure  Mr.  Cophagus,  for  the  mortar  will 
not  then  be  paid  for.' 

*  Very  true ;  and  as  he  has  just  given  me  five  guineas,  I 
will  refrain  from  my  just  indignation.  But  now,  Japhet,  let 
me  speak  to  you.  I  don't  know  how  you  feel,  but  I  feel  as  if 
I  could  not  part  with  you.  I  do  not  want  to  go  in  search  of 
my  father  particularly.  They  say  it's  a  wise  child  that  knows 
its  own  father — but  as  there  can  be  no  doubt  of  my  other 
parent — if  I  can  only  hit  upon  her,  I  have  a  strong  inclination 
to  go  in  search  of  my  mother,  and  if  you  like  my  company, 
why,  I  will  go  with  you — always,  my  dear  Japhet,'  continued 
Tim,  'keeping  in  my  mind  the  great  difference  between  a 
person  who  has  been  fee'd  as  an  M.D.,  and  a  lad  who  only 
carries  out  his  prescriptions.' 

'  Do  you  really  mean  to  say,  Tim,  that  you  will  go  with 
me  ? ' 

'  Yes,  to  the  end  of  the  world,  Japhet,  as  your  companion, 
your  friend,  and  your  servant,  if  you  require  it.  I  love  you, 
Japhet,  and  I  will  serve  you  faithfully.' 

'  My  dear  Tim,  I  am  delighted  ;  now  I  am  really  happy : 
we  will  have  but  one  purse,  and  but  one  interest ;  if  I  find 
good  fortune,  you  shall  share  it.' 

'  And  if  you  meet  with  ill  luck,  I  will  share  that  too — so 
the  affair  is  settled — and  as  here  comes  Mr.  Pleggit's  assistants 
with  only  one  pair  of  eyes  between  them,  the  sooner  we  pack 
up  the  better.' 

In  half  an  hour  all  was  ready ;  a  bundle  each,  contained 
our  wardrobes.  We  descended  from  our  attic,  walked  proudly 
through  the  shop  without  making  any  observation,  or  taking 

39 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

any  notice  of  our  successors  ;  all  the  notice  taken  was  by 
Timothy,  who  turned  round  and  shook  his  fist  at  his  old 
enemies,  the  iron  mortar  and  pestle  ;  and  there  we  were, 
standing  on  the  pavement,  with  the  wide  world  before  us,  and 
quite  undecided  which  way  we  should  go. 

'Is  it  to  be  east,  west,  north,  or  south,  Japhet  ? '  said 
Timothy. 

1  The  wise  men  came  from  the  east,'  replied  I. 

'  Then  they  must  have  travelled  west,'  said  Tim  ;  *  let  us 
show  our  wisdom  by  doing  the  same.' 

'  Agreed.' 

Passing  by  a  small  shop  we  purchased  two  good  sticks,  as 
defenders,  as  well  as  to  hang  our  bundles  on — and  off  we  set 
upon  our  pilgrimage. 


CHAPTER   VIII 

We  take  a  coach,  but  the  driver  does  not  like  his  fare  and  hits  us  foul — 
We  change  our  mode  of  travelling,  upon  the  principle  of  slow  and 
sure,  and  fall  in  with  a  very  learned  man. 

I  BELIEVE  it  to  be  a  very  general  custom,  when  people  set  off 
upon  a  journey,  to  reckon  up  their  means — that  is,  to  count 
the  money  which  they  may  have  in  their  pockets.  At  all 
events,  this  was  done  by  Timothy  and  me,  and  I  found  that 
my  stock  amounted  to  twenty-two  pounds  eighteen  shillings, 
and  Timothy's  to  the  five  guineas  presented  by  Mr.  Cophagus, 
and  three  halfpence  which  were  in  the  corner  of  his  waistcoat 
pocket  —  sum  total,  twenty -eight  pounds  three  shillings  and 
three  halfpence  ;  a  very  handsome  sum,  as  we  thought,  with 
which  to  commence  our  peregrinations,  and,  as  I  observed  to 
Timothy,  sufficient  to  last  us  for  a  considerable  time,  if 
husbanded  with  care. 

'Yes,'  replied  he,  'but  we  must  husband  our  legs  also, 
Japhet,  or  we  shall  soon  be  tired,  and  very  soon  wear  out  our 
shoes.  I  vote  we  take  a  hackney  coach.' 

'  Take  a  hackney  coach,  Tim  !  we  mustn't  think  of  it ;  we 
cannot  afford  such  a  luxury  ;  you  can't  be  tired  yet,  we  are 
now  only  just  clear  of  Hyde  Park  Corner.' 

40 


IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Still  I  think  we  had  better  take  a  coach,  Japhet,  and  here 
is  one  coming.  I  always  do  take  one  when  I  carry  out 
medicines,  to  make  up  for  the  time  I  lose  looking  at  the  shops, 
and  playing  peg  in  the  ring.' 

I  now  understood  what  Timothy  meant,  which  was,  to  get 
behind  and  have  a  ride  for  nothing.  I  consented  to  this 
arrangement,  and  we  got  up  behind  one  which  was  already 
well  filled  inside.  'The  only  difference  between  an  inside 
and  outside  passenger  in  a  hackney  coach  is,  that  one  pays, 
and  the  other  does  not,'  said  I,  to  Timothy,  as  we  rolled  along 
at  the  act  of  parliament  speed  of  four  miles  per  hour. 

'  That  depends  upon  circumstances  :  if  we  are  found  out,  in 
all  probability  we  shall  not  only  have  our  ride,  but  be  paid 
into  the  bargain. 

*  With  the  coachman's  whip,  I  presume  ? ' 

*  Exactly.'     And  Timothy  had  hardly  time  to  get  the  word 
out  of  his  mouth,  when  flac,  flac,  came  the  whip  across  our 
eyes — a  little  envious  wretch,  with  his  shirt  hanging  out  of  his 
trowsers,  having  called  out  Cut  behind !     Not  wishing  to  have 
our  faces  or  our  behinds  cut  any  more,  we  hastily  descended, 
and   reached   the  footpath,  after  having   gained   about   three 
miles  on  the  road  before  we  were  discovered. 

*  That  wasn't  a  bad  lift,  Japhet,  and  as  for  the  whip  I  never 
mind  that  with  corduroys.      And  now,  Japhet,   I'll  tell   you 
something  ;  we  must  get  into  a  waggon,  if  we  can  find  one 
going  down  the  road,  as  soon  as  it  is  dark.' 

'  But  that  will  cost  money,  Tim.' 

'  It's  economy,  I  tell  you  ;  for  a  shilling,  if  you  bargain,  you 
may  ride  the  whole  night,  and  if  we  stop  at  a  public-house  to 
sleep,  we  shall  have  to  pay  for  our  beds,  as  well  as  be  obliged 
to  order  something  to  eat,  and  pay  dearer  for  it  than  if  we  buy 
what  we  want  at  cooks'  shops.' 

'  There  is  sense  in  what  you  say,  Timothy ;  we  will  look 
out  for  a  waggon.' 

'  Oh  !  it's  no  use  now — waggons  are  like  black  beetles,  not 
only  in  shape  but  in  habits,  they  only  travel  by  night — at  least 
most  of  them  do.  We  are  now  coming  into  long  dirty  Brent- 
ford, and  I  don't  know  how  you  feel,  Japhet,  but  I  find  that 
walking  wonderfully  increases  the  appetite — that's  another 
reason  why  you  should  not  walk  when  you  can  ride — for 
nothing.' 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'Well,  I'm  rather  hungry  myself;  and  dear  me,  how  very 
good  that  piece  of  roast  pork  looks  in  that  window  ! ' 

'  I  agree  with  you — let's  go  in  and  make  a  bargain  ! ' 

We  bought  a  good  allowance  for  a  shilling,  and  after 
sticking  out  for  a  greater  proportion  of  mustard  than  the 
woman  said  we  were  entitled  to,  and  some  salt,  we  wrapped  it 
up  in  a  piece  of  paper,  and  continued  our  course,  till  we  arrived 
at  a  baker's,  where  we  purchased  our  bread  ;  and  then  taking 
up  a  position  on  a  bench  outside  a  public-house,  called  for  a 
pot  of  beer,  and  putting  our  provisions  down  before  us,  made 
a  hearty,  and,  what  made  us  more  enjoy  it,  an  independent 
meal.  Having  finished  our  pork  and  our  porter,  and  refreshed 
ourselves,  we  again  started  and  walked  till  it  was  quite  dark, 
when  we  felt  so  tired  that  we  agreed  to  sit  down  on  our 
bundles  and  wait  for  the  first  waggon  which  passed.  We 
soon  heard  the  jingling  of  bells,  and  shortly  afterwards  its 
enormous  towering  bulk  appeared  between  us  and  the  sky. 
We  went  up  to  the  waggoner,  who  was  mounted  on  a  little 
pony,  and  asked  him  if  he  could  give  two  poor  lads  a  lift,  and 
how  much  he  would  charge  us  for  the  ride. 

'  How  much  can  ye  afford  to  give,  measters  ?  for  there  be 
others  as  poor  as  ye.'  We  replied  that  we  could  give  a 
shilling.  '  Well,  then,  get  up  in  God's  name,  and  ride  as  long 
as  you  will.  Get  in  behind.' 

'Are  there  many  people  in  there  already?'  said  I,  as  I 
climbed  up,  and  Timothy  handed  me  the  bundles. 

'  Noa,'  replied  the  waggoner,  '  there  be  nobody  but  a  mighty 
clever  poticary  or  doctor,  I  can't  tell  which ;  but  he  wear  an 
uncommon  queer  hat,  and  he  talk  all  sort  of  doctor  stuff — 
and  there  be  his  odd  man  and  his  odd  boy ;  that  be  all,  and 
there  be  plenty  of  room,  and  plenty  o'  clean  strct? 

After  this  intimation  we  climbed  up,  and  gained  a  situation 
in  the  rear  of  the  waggon  under  the  cloth.  As  the  waggoner 
said,  there  was  plenty  of  room,  and  we  nestled  into  the  straw 
without  coming  into  contact  with  the  other  travellers.  Not 
feeling  any  inclination  to  sleep,  Timothy  and  I  entered  into 
conversation,  sotto  voce^  and  had  continued  for  more  than  half 
an  hour,  supposing  by  their  silence  that  the  other  occupants 
of  the  waggon  were  asleep,  when  we  were  interrupted  by  a 
voice  clear  and  sonorous  as  a  bell. 

'  It  would  appear  that  you  are  wanderers,  young  men,  and 
42 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

journey  you  know  not  whither.  Birds  seek  their  nests  when 
the  night  falls — beasts  hasten  to  their  lairs — man  bolts  his 
door.  "  Propria  qua  maribus,"  as  Herodotus  hath  it ;  which, 
when  translated,  means,  that  "  Such  is  the  nature  of  mankind." 
"  Tribuuntur  mascula  dicas"  "  Tell  me  your  troubles,"  as 
Homer  says.' 

I  was  very  much  surprised  at  this  address — my  knowledge 
of  the  language  told  me  immediately  that  the  quotations  were 
out  of  the  Latin  grammar,  and  that  all  his  learning  was  pre- 
tence ;  still  there  was  a  novelty  of  style  which  amused  me,  and 
at  the  same  time  gave  me  an  idea  that  the  speaker  was  an  un- 
common personage.  I  gave  Timothy  a  nudge,  and  then  replied : 

'  You  have  guessed  right,  most  learned  sir ;  we  are,  as  you 
say,  wanderers  seeking  our  fortunes,  and  trust  yet  to  find  them 
— still  we  have  a  weary  journey  before  us.  "  Haustus  hord 
somni  sumendum"  as  Aristotle  hath  it  ;  which  I  need  not 
translate  to  so  learned  a  person  as  yourself.' 

4  Nay,  indeed,  there  is  no  occasion  ;  yet  am  I  pleased  to 
meet  with  one  who  hath  scholarship,'  replied  the  other. 
'  Have  you  also  a  knowledge  of  the  Greek  ? ' 

*  No,  I  pretend  not  to  Greek.' 

'It  is  a  pity  that  thou  hast  it  not,  for  thou  wouldst  delight 
to  commune  with  the  ancients.  Esculapius  hath  these  words 
— "  As^0/der — offmotton  accapon — pasti — vewz'son," — which  I 
will  translate  for  thee — "  We  often  find  what  we  seek  when  we 
least  expect  it."  May  it  be  so  with  you,  my  friend.  Where 
have  you  been  educated  ?  and  what  has  been  your  profession?' 

I  thought  I  risked  little  in  telling,  so  I  replied,  that  I  had 
been  brought  up  as  a  surgeon  and  apothecary,  and  had  been 
educated  at  a  foundation  school. 

'  'Tis  well,'  replied  he  ;  '  you  have  then  commenced  yoj\r 
studies  in  my  glorious  profession  ;  still,  have  you  much  to 
learn  ;  years  of  toil,  under  a  great  master,  can  only  enable 
you  to  benefit  mankind  as  I  have  done,  and  years  of  hardship 
and  of  danger  must  be  added  thereunto,  to  afford  you  the 
means.  There  are  many  hidden  secrets.  "  Ut  sunt  Divorum, 
Mars,  Bacchus,  Apollo,  Virorum" — many  parts  of  the  globe 
to  traverse,  "  Ut  Cato,  Virgilius,  fluviorum,  ut  Tibris,  Orontes" 
All  these  have  I  visited,  and  many  more.  Even  now  do  I 
journey  to  obtain  more  of  my  invaluable  medicine,  gathered 
on  the  highest  Andes,  when  the  moon  is  in  her  perigee. 

43 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

There  I  shall  remain  for  months  among  the  clouds,  looking 
down  upon  the  great  plain  of  Mexico,  which  shall  appear  no 
larger  than  the  head  of  a  pin,  where  the  voice  of  man  is  heard 
not.  "  Vocito,  vocitas,  vocitavi,"  bending  for  months  towards 
the  earth.  "As  in  presenti,"  suffering  with  the  cold — "frico 
quodfricui  dat,"  as  Eusebius  hath  it.  Soon  shall  I  be  borne 
away  by  the  howling  winds  towards  the  New  World,  where  I 
can  obtain  more  of  the  wonderful  medicine,  which  I  may  say 
never  yet  hath  failed  me,  and  which  nothing  but  love  towards 
my  race  induces  me  to  gather  at  such  pains  and  risk.' 

'  Indeed,  sir,'  replied  I,  amused  with  his  imposition,  '  I 
should  like  to  accompany  you — for,  as  Josephus  says  most 
truly,  "  Capiat pilules  duce  post  prandium."  Travel  is,  indeed, 
a  most  delightful  occupation,  and  I  would  like  to  run  over  the 
whole  world.' 

4  And  I  would  like  to  follow  you,'  interrupted  Timothy. 
*  I  suspect  we  have  commenced  our  grand  tour  already — three 
miles  behind  a  hackney  coach — ten  on  foot,  and  about  two,  I 
should  think,  in  this  waggon.  But  as  Cophagus  says, 
"  Cochlearija  crash  many  summendush"  which  means,  "  There 
are  ups  and  downs  in  this  world." ' 

'  Hah  ! '  exclaimed  our  companion.  *  He,  also,  has  the 
rudiments.' 

'  Nay,  I  hope  I've  done  with  the  RudimansJ  replied 
Timothy. 

'  Is  he  your  follower  ?'  inquired  the  man. 

'That  very  much  depends  upon  who  walks  first,'  replied 
Timothy,  '  but  whether  or  no — we  hunt  in  couples.' 

' 1  understand — you  are  companions.  "  Concordat  cum 
nominativo  numero  et  persona."  Tell  me,  can  you  roll  pills, 
can  you  use  the  pestle  and  the  mortar,  handle  the  scapula, 
and  mix  ingredients  ? ' 

I  replied,  that  of  course  I  knew  my  profession. 

'Well,  then,  as  we  have  still  some  hours  of  night,  let  us 
now  obtain  some  rest.  In  the  morning,  when  the  sun  hath 
introduced  us  to  each  other,  I  may  then  judge  from  your 
countenances  whether  it  is  likely  that  we  may  be  better 
acquainted.  Night  is  the  time  for  repose,  as  Quintus  Curtius 
says,  "  Gustos,  bos,  fur  atque  sacerdos"  Sleep  was  made  for 
all — my  friends,  good-night.' 


44 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER    IX 

In  which  the  adventures  in  the  waggon  are  continued,  and  we  become 
more  puzzled  with  our  new  companions — We  leave  off  talking  Latin, 
and  enter  into  an  engagement. 

TIMOTHY  and  I  took  his  advice,  and  were  soon  fast  asleep. 
I  was  awakened  the  next  morning  by  feeling  a  hand  in  my 
trowsers  pocket.  I  seized  it,  and  held  it  fast. 

*  Now  just  let  go  my  hand,  will  you  ? '  cried  a  lachrymal 
voice. 

I  jumped  up — it  was  broad  daylight,  and  looked  at  the 
human  frame  to  which  the  hand  was  an  appendix.  It  was  a 
very  spare,  awkwardly-built  form  of  a  young  man,  apparently 
about  twenty  years  old,  but  without  the  least  sign  of  manhood 
on  his  chin.  His  face  was  cadaverous,  with  large  goggling 
eyes,  high  cheek-bones,  hair  long  and  ragged,  reminding  me 
of  a  rat's  nest,  thin  lips,  and  ears  large  almost  as  an  elephant's. 
A  more  woe-begone  wretch  in  appearance  I  never  beheld,  and 
I  continued  to  look  at  him  with  surprise.  He  repeated  his 
words  with  an  idiotical  expression,  *  Just  let  go  my  hand,  can't 
you?' 

*  What  business  had  your  hand  in  my  pocket  ? '  replied  I, 
angrily. 

*  I   was   feeling  for  my  pocket   handkerchief,'   replied   the 
young  man.      * I  always  keeps  it  in  my  breeches  pocket.' 

'  But  not  in  your  neighbour's,  I  presume  ? ' 

'  My  neighbour's  ! '  replied  he,  with  a  vacant  stare.  '  Well, 
so  it  is,  I  see  now — I  thought  it  was  my  own.' 

I  released  his  hand  ;  he  immediately  put  it  into  his  own 
pocket,  and  drew  out  his  handkerchief,  if  the  rag  deserved  the 
appellation. 

'There,'  said  he,  'I  told  you  I  put  it  in  that  pocket — I 
always  do.' 

*  And  pray  who  are  you  ? '  said  I,  as  I  looked  at  his  dress, 
which  was  a  pair  of  loose  white  Turkish  trowsers,  and  an  old 
spangled  jacket. 

1  Me  !  why,  I'm  the  fool.' 

45 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  More  knave  than  fool,  I  expect,'  replied  I,  still  much 
puzzled  with  his  strange  appearance  and  dress. 

'  Nay,  there  you  mistake,'  said  the  voice  of  last  night. 
'  He  is  not  only  a  fool  by  profession,  but  one  by  nature.  It  is 
a  half-witted  creature,  who  serves  me  when  I  would  attract 
the  people.  Strange,  in  this  world,  that  wisdom  may  cry  in 
the  streets  without  being  noticed,  yet  folly  will  always  command 
a  crowd.' 

During  this  address  I  turned  my  eyes  upon  the  speaker. 
He  was  an  elderly-looking  person,  with  white  hair,  dressed  in 
a  suit  of  black,  ruffles  and  frill.  His  eyes  were  brilliant,  but 
the  remainder  of  his  face  it  was  difficult  to  decipher,  as  it  was 
evidently  painted,  and  the  night's  jumbling  in  the  waggon  had 
so  smeared  it,  that  it  appeared  of  almost  every  colour  in  the 
rainbow.  On  one  side  of  him  lay  a  large  three-cornered 
cocked  hat,  on  the  other,  a  little  lump  of  a  boy,  rolled  up  in 
the  straw  like  a  marmot,  and  still  sound  asleep.  Timothy 
looked  at  me,  and  when  he  caught  my  eye,  burst  out  into  a 
laugh. 

'You  laugh  at  my  appearance,  I  presume,'  said  the  old 
man,  mildly. 

'I  do  in  truth,'  replied  Timothy.  '  I  never  saw  one  like 
you  before,  and  I  dare  say  never  shall  again.' 

'  That  is  possible  ;  yet  probably  if  you  meet  me  again,  you 
would  not  know  me.' 

'Among  a  hundred  thousand,'  replied  Timothy,  with  in- 
creased mirth. 

'  We  shall  see,  perhaps,'  replied  the  quack  doctor,  for  such 
the  reader  must  have  already  ascertained  to  be  his  profession  ; 
'  but  the  waggon  has  stopped,  and  the  driver  will  bait  his 
horses.  If  inclined  to  eat,  now  is  your  time.  Come,  Jumbo, 
get  up ;  Philotas,  waken  him,  and  follow  me.' 

Philotas,  for  so  was  the  fool  styled  by  his  master,  twisted 
up  some  straw,  and  stuffed  the  end  of  it  into  Jumbo's  mouth. 
'  Now  Jumbo  will  think  he  has  got  something  to  eat.  I 
always  wake  him  that  way,'  observed  the  fool,  grinning 
at  us. 

It  certainly,  as  might  be  expected,  did  waken  Jumbo,  who 
uncoiled  himself,  rubbed  his  eyes,  stared  at  the  tilt  of  the 
waggon,  then  at  us,  and  without  saying  a  word,  rolled  himself 
out  after  the  fool.  Timothy  and  I  followed.  We  found  the 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

doctor  bargaining  for  some  bread  and  bacon,  his  strange 
appearance  exciting  much  amusement,  and  inducing  the  people 
to  let  him  have  a  better  bargain  than  perhaps  otherwise  they 
would  have  done.  He  gave  a  part  of  the  refreshment  to  the 
boy  and  the  fool,  and  walked  out  of  the  tap-room  with  his  own 
share.  Timothy  and  I  went  to  the  pump,  and  had  a  good 
refreshing  wash,  and  then  for  a  shilling  were  permitted  to 
make  a  very  hearty  breakfast.  The  waggon  having  remained 
about  an  hour,  the  driver  gave  us  notice  of  his  departure  ; 
but  the  doctor  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  After  a  little  delay, 
the  waggoner  drove  off,  cursing  him  for  a  bilk,  and  vowing 
that  he'd  never  have  any  more  to  do  with  a  'larned  man.' 
In  the  meantime  Timothy  and  I  had  taken  our  seats  in  the 
waggon,  in  company  with  the  fool,  and  Master  Jumbo.  We 
commenced  a  conversation  with  the  former,  and  soon  found 
out,  as  the  doctor  had  asserted,  that  he  really  was  an  idiot,  so 
much  so  that  it  was  painful  to  converse  with  him.  As  for  the 
latter,  he  had  coiled  himself  away  to  take  a  little  more  sleep. 
I  forgot  to  mention,  that  the  boy  was  dressed  much  in  the 
same  way  as  the  fool,  in  an  old  spangled  jacket,  and  dirty 
white  trowsers.  For  about  an  hour  Timothy  and  I  conversed, 
remarking  upon  the  strange  disappearance  of  the  doctor, 
especially  as  he  had  given  us  hopes  of  employing  us ;  in 
accepting  which  offer,  if  ever  it  should  be  made,  we  had  not 
made  up  our  minds,  when  we  were  interrupted  with  a  voice 
crying  out,  *  Hillo,  my  man,  can  you  give  a  chap  a  lift  as  far 
as  Reading,  for  a  shilling  ? ' 

'  Ay,  get  up,  and  welcome,'  replied  the  waggoner. 

The  waggon  did  not  stop,  but  in  a  moment  or  two  the  new 
passenger  climbed  in.  He  was  dressed  in  a  clean  smock 
frock,  neatly  worked  up  the  front,  leather  gaiters,  and  stout 
shoes  ;  a  bundle  and  a  stick  were  in  his  hand.  He  smiled  as 
he  looked  round  upon  the  company,  and  showed  a  beautiful 
set  of  teeth.  His  face  was  dark,  and  sun-burnt,  but  very 
handsome,  and  his  eyes  as  black  as  coal,  and  as  brilliant  as 
gas.  '  Heh  !  player  folk — I've  a  notion,'  said  he,  as  he  sat 
down,  looking  at  the  doctor's  attendants,  and  laughing  at  us. 
*  Have  you  come  far,  gentlemen  ? '  continued  he. 

'  From  London,'  was  my  reply. 

4  How  do  the  crops  look  up  above,  for  down  here  the  turnips 
seem  to  have  failed  altogether  ?  Dry  seasons  won't  do  for  turnips.' 

47 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  replied  that  I  really  could  not  satisfy  him  on  that  point, 
as  it  was  dark  when  we  passed. 

'Very  true — I  had  forgotten  that,3  replied  he.  'However, 
the  barleys  look  well ;  but  perhaps  you  don't  understand 
farming  ? ' 

I  replied  in  the  negative,  and  the  conversation  was  kept 
up  for  two  or  three  hours,  in  the  course  of  which  I  mentioned 
the  quack  doctor,  and  his  strange  departure. 

'  That  is  the  fellow  who  cured  so  many  people  at  ,' 

replied  he  ;  and  the  conversation  then  turned  upon  his  pro- 
fession and  mode  of  life,  which  Timothy  and  I  agreed  must  be 
very  amusing.  '  We  shall  meet  him  again,  I  dare  say,'  replied 
the  man.  '  Would  you  know  him  ? ' 

'  I  think  so,  indeed,'  replied  Timothy,  laughing. 

'  Yes,  and  so  you  would  think  that  you  would  know  a 
guinea  from  a  half-penny,  if  I  put  it  into  your  hands,'  replied 
the  man.  '  I  do  not  wish  to  lay  a  bet,  and  win  your  money  ; 
but  I  tell  you,  that  I  will  put  either  the  one  or  the  other  into 
each  of  your  hands,  and  if  you  hold  it  fast  for  one  minute,  and 
shut  your  eyes  during  that  time,  you  will  not  be  able  to  tell 
me  which  it  is  that  you  have  in  it.' 

'  That  I  am  sure  I  would,'  replied  Tim ;  and  I  made  the 
same  assertion. 

'Well,  I  was  taken  in  that  way  at  a  fair,  and  lost  ten 
shillings  by  the  wager ;  now,  we'll  try  whether  you  can  tell  or 
not.'  He  took  out  some  money  from  his  pocket,  which  he 
selected  without  our  seeing  it,  put  a  coin  into  the  hand  of  each 
of  us,  closing  our  fists  over  it,  '  and  now,'  said  he,  '  keep  your 
eyes  shut  for  a  minute.' 

We  did  so,  and  a  second  or  two  afterwards  we  heard  a 
voice  which  we  instantly  recognised.  *  Nay,  but  it  was  wrong 
to  leave  me  on  the  way-side  thus,  having  agreed  to  pay  the 
sum  demanded.  At  my  age  one  walketh  not  without  fatigue, 
"  Excipenda  tamen  qucedam  sunt  urbtum"  as  Philostratus  says, 
meaning,  "  That  old  limbs  lose  their  activity,  and  seek  the  help 
of  a  crutch." ' 

'  There's  the  doctor,'  cried  Timothy,  with  his  eyes  still  shut. 

*  Now  open  your  eyes,'  said  the  man,  '  and  tell  me,  before 
you  open  your  hand,  what  there  is  in  it.' 

'  A  halfpenny  in  mine,'  said  Tim. 

'  A  guinea  in  mine,'  replied  I. 
48 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

We  opened  our  hands,  and  they  were  empty. 

'  Where  the  devil  is  it  ? '  exclaimed  I,  looking  at  Tim. 

'  And  where  the  devil's  the  doctor?'  replied  he,  looking  round. 

*  The  money  is  in   the  doctor's  pocket,'  replied  the  man, 
smiling. 

'  Then  where  is  the  doctor's  pocket  ? ' 

'  Here,'  replied  he,  slapping  his  pocket,  and  looking 
significantly  at  us.  *  I  thought  you  were  certain  of  knowing 
him  again.  About  as  certain  as  you  were  of  telling  the 
money  in  your  hand.' 

He  then,  to  our  astonishment,  imitated  the  doctor's 
voice,  and  quoted  prosody,  syntax,  and  Latin.  Timothy  and 
I  were  still  in  astonishment,  when  he  continued,  '  If  I  had  not 
found  out  that  you  were  in  want  of  employ,  and  further,  that 
your  services  would  be  useful  to  me,  I  should  not  have  made 
this  discovery.  Do  you  now  think  that  you  know  enough  to 
enter  into  my  service  ?  It  is  light  work,  and  not  bad  pay  ; 
and  now  you  may  choose.' 

'  I  trust,'  said  I,  *  that  there  is  no  dishonesty  ? ' 

'  None  that  you  need  practise,  if  you  are  so  scrupulous  : 
perhaps  your  scruples  may  some  day  be  removed.  I  make 
the  most  of  my  wares — every  merchant  does  the  same.  I 
practise  upon  the  folly  of  mankind — it  is  on  that,  that  wise 
men  live.' 

Timothy  gave  me  a  push,  and  nodded  his  head  for  me  to 
give  my  consent.  I  reflected  a  few  seconds,  and  at  last  I 
extended  my  hand.  '  I  consent,'  replied  I,  '  with  the  reserva- 
tion I  have  made.' 

« You  will  not  repent,'  said  he ;  '  and  I  will  take  your 
companion,  not  that  I  want  him  particularly,  but  I  do  want 
you.  The  fact  is,  I  want  a  lad  of  gentlemanly  address,  and 
handsome  appearance — with  the  very  knowledge  you  possess — 
and  now  we  will  say  no  more  for  the  present.  By  the  bye,  was 
that  real  Latin  of  yours  ? ' 

*  No,'  replied  I,  laughing  ;  '  you  quoted  the  grammar,  and 
I  replied  with  medical  prescriptions.      One  was  as  good  as  the 
other.' 

'  Quite — nay,  better ;  for  the  school-boys  may  find  me  out, 
but  not  you.  But  now  observe,  when  we  come  to  the  next 
cross  road,  we  must  get  down — at  leas.t,  I  expect  so  ;  but  we 
shall  know  in  a  minute.' 

E  49 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

In  about  the  time  he  mentioned,  a  dark,  gipsy-looking  man 
looked  into  the  waggon,  and  spoke  to  our  acquaintance  in  an 
unknown  language.  He  replied  in  the  same,  and  the  man 
disappeared.  We  continued  our  route  for  about  a  quarter  of 
an  hour,  when  he  got  out,  asked  us  to  follow  him,  and 
speaking  a  few  words  to  the  fool,  which  I  did  not  hear,  left 
him  and  the  boy  in  the  waggon.  We  paid  our  fare,  took 
possession  of  our  bundles,  and  followed  our  new  companion 
for  a  few  minutes  on  the  cross  road,  when  he  stopped,  and 
said,  '  I  must  now  leave  you,  to  prepare  for  your  reception 
into  our  fraternity ;  continue  straight  on  this  road  until  you 
arrive  at  a  lime-kiln,  and  wait  there  till  I  come.' 

He  sprang  over  a  stile,  and  took  a  direction  verging  at  an 
angle  from  the  road,  forced  his  way  through  a  hedge,  and 
disappeared  from  our  sight.  '  Upon  my  word,  Timothy,' 
said  I,  '  I  hardly  know  what  to  say  to  this.  Have  we  done 
right  in  trusting  to  this  man,  who,  I  am  afraid,  is  a  great 
rogue  ?  I  do  not  much  like  mixing  with  these  gipsy  people, 
for  such  I  am  sure  he  belongs  to.' 

*  I  really  do  not  see  how  we  can  do  better,'  replied  Timothy. 
'  The  world  is  all  before  us,  and  we  must  force  our  own  way 
through  it.  As  for  his  being  a  quack  doctor,  I  see  no  great 
harm  in  that.  People  put  their  faith  in  nostrums  more  than 
they  do  in  regular  medicines  ;  and  it  is  well  known  that  quack 
medicines,  as  they  call  them,  cure  as  often  as  others,  merely 
for  that  very  reason.' 

'  Very  true,  Timothy ;  the  mind  once  at  ease,  the  body 
soon  recovers,  and  faith,  even  in  quack  medicines,  will  often 
make  people  whole  ;  but  do  you  think  that  he  does  no  more 
than  impose  upon  people  in  that  way  ? ' 

'  He  may,  or  he  may  not ;  at  all  events,  we  need  do  no 
more,  I  suppose.' 

1 1  am  not  sure  of  that ;  however,  we  shall  see.  He  says 
we  may  be  useful  to  him,  and  I  suppose  we  shall  be,  or  he 
would  not  have  engaged  us — we  shall  soon  find  out.' 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER    X 

In  which  the  reader  is  introduced  to  several  new  acquaintances,  and  all 
connected  with  them,  except  birth  and  parentage,  which  appears  to 
be  the  one  thing  wanting  throughout  the  whole  of  this  work. 

BY  this  time  we  had  arrived  at  the  lime-kiln  to  which  we  had 
been  directed,  and  we  sat  down  on  our  bundles,  chatting  for 
about  five  minutes,  when  our  new  acquaintance  made  his 
appearance,  with  something  in  his  hand,  tied  up  in  a 
handkerchief. 

*  You  may  as  well  put  your  coats  into  your  bundles,  and 
put  on  these  frocks,'  said  he  ;  '  you  will  appear  better  among 
us,  and  be  better  received,  for  there  is  a  gathering  now,  and 
some    of    them    are    queer    customers.      However,    you    have 
nothing  to  fear ;  when  once  you  are  with  my  wife  and  me,  you 
are  quite  safe ;  her  little  finger  would  protect  you  from  five 
hundred.' 

*  Your  wife  !  who,  then,  is  she  ? '  inquired  I,  as  I  put  my 
head  through  the  smock  frock. 

'  She  is  a  great  personage  among  the  gipsies.  She  is,  by 
descent,  one  of  the  heads  of  the  tribe,  and  none  dare  to 
disobey  her.' 

'  And  you — are  you  a  gipsy  ?  ' 

« No,  and  yes.  By  birth  I  am  not,  but  by  choice,  and 
marriage,  I  am  admitted  ;  but  I  was  not  born  under  a  hedge, 
I  can  assure  you,  although  I  very  often  pass  a  night  there 
now — that  is,  when  I  am  domestic  ;  but  do  not  think  that  you 
are  to  remain  long  here  ;  we  shall  leave  in  a  few  days,  and 
may  not  meet  the  tribe  again  for  months,  although  you  may 
see  my  own  family  occasionally.  I  did  not  ask  you  to  join 
me  to  pass  a  gipsy's  life — no,  no,  we  must  be  stirring  and 
active.  Come,  we  are  now  close  to  them.  Do  not  speak  as 
you  pass  the  huts,  until  you  have  entered  mine.  Then  you 
may  do  as  you  please.' 

We  turned  short  round,  passed  through  a  gap  in  the  hedge, 
and  found  ourselves  on  a  small  retired  piece  of  common, 
which  was  studded  with  about  twenty  or  thirty  low  gipsy  huts. 
The  fires  were  alight  and  provisions  apparently  cooking.  We 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

passed  by  nine  or  ten,  and  obeyed  our  guide's  injunctions  to 
keep  silence.  At  last  we  stopped,  and  perceived  ourselves  to 
be  standing  by  the  fool,  who  was  dressed  like  us,  in  a  smock 
frock,  and  Mr.  Jumbo,  who  was  very  busy  making  the  pot 
boil,  blowing  at  the  sticks  underneath  till  he  was  black  in  the 
face.  Several  of  the  men  passed  near  us,  and  examined  us 
with  no  very  pleasant  expression  of  countenance ;  and  we 
were  not  sorry  to  see  our  conductor,  who  had  gone  into  the 
hut,  return,  followed  by  a  woman,  to  whom  he  was  speaking 
in  the  language  of  the  tribe.  '  Nattde  bids  you  welcome,' 
said  he,  as  she  approached. 

Never  in  my  life  will  the  remembrance  of  the  first  appear- 
ance of  Nattde,  and  the  effect  it  had  upon  me,  be  erased  from 
my  memory.  She  was  tall,  too  tall,  had  it  not  been  for  the 
perfect  symmetry  of  her  form.  Her  face  of  a  clear  olive,  and 
oval  in  shape ;  her  eyes  jetty  black ;  nose  straight,  and 
beautifully  formed ;  mouth  small,  thin  lips,  with  a  slight  curl 
of  disdain,  and  pearly  teeth.  I  never  beheld  a  woman  of  so 
commanding  a  presence.  Her  feet  were  bare,  but  very  small, 
as  well  as  her  hands.  On  her  fingers  she  wore  many  rings, 
of  a  curious  old  setting,  and  a  piece  of  gold  hung  on  her 
forehead,  where  the  hair  was  parted.  She  looked  at  us, 
touched  her  high  forehead  with  the  ends  of  her  fingers,  and 
waving  her  hand  gracefully,  said,  in  a  soft  voice,  'You  are 
welcome,'  and  then  turned  to  her  husband,  speaking  to  him  in 
her  own  language,  until  by  degrees  they  separated  from  us  in 
earnest  conversation. 

She  returned  to  us  after  a  short  time,  without  her  husband, 
and  said,  in  a  voice,  the  notes  of  which  were  indeed  soft,  but 
the  delivery  of  the  words  was  most  determined  :  '  I  have  said 
that  you  are  welcome  ;  sit  down,  therefore,  and  share  with  us 
— fear  nothing,  you  have  no  cause  to  fear.  Be  faithful,  then, 
while  you  serve  him  ;  and  when  you  would  quit  us,  say  so, 
and  receive  your  leave  to  depart  ;  but  if  you  attempt  to  desert 
us  without  permission,  then  we  shall  suspect  that  you  are  our 
enemies,  and  treat  you  accordingly.  There  is  your  lodging 
while  here,'  continued  she,  pointing  to  another  hut.  '  There 
is  but  one  child  with  you,  his  boy  (pointing  to  Jumbo),  who 
can  lie  at  your  feet.  And  now  join  us  as  friends.  Fleta, 
where  are  you  ? ' 

A  soft  voice  answered  from  the  tent  of  Nattee,  and  soon 

52 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

afterwards  came  out  a  little  girl,  of  about  eleven  years  old. 
The  appearance  of  this  child  was  a  new  source  of  interest. 
She  was  a  little  fairy  figure,  with  a  skin  as  white  as  the  driven 
snow — light  auburn  hair,  and  large  blue  eyes  ;  her  dress  was 
scanty,  and  showed  a  large  portion  of  her  taper  legs.  She 
hastened  to  Nattee,  and  folding  her  arms  across  her  breast, 
stood  still,  saying  meekly,  *  I  am  here.' 

*  Know  these  as  friends,  Fleta.     Send  that  lazy  Num  (this 


'V*? 


'  You  are  welcome' 
Copyright  1894  by  Macmillan  Or  Co. 

was  Philotas,  the  fool)  for  more  wood,  and  see  that  Jumbo 
tends  the  fire.5 

Nattee  smiled,  and  left  us.  I  observed  she  went  to  where 
forty  or  fifty  of  the  tribe  were  assembled,  in  earnest  discourse. 
She  took  her  seat  with  them,  and  marked  deference  was  paid 
to  her.  In  the  meantime  Jumbo  had  blown  up  a  brisk  fire  ; 
we  were  employed  by  Fleta  in  shredding  vegetables,  which  she 
threw  into  the  boiling  kettle.  Num  appeared  with  more  fuel, 
and  at  last  there  was  nothing  more  to  do.  Fleta  sat  down  by 
us,  and  parting  her  long  hair,  which  had  fallen  over  her  eyes, 
looked  us  both  in  the  face. 

53 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'Who  gave  you  that  name,  Fleta  ? '  inquired  I. 

'  They  gave  it  me,'  replied  she. 

'  And  who  are  they  ? ' 

*  Nattee,  and  Melchior,  her  husband.' 

'  But  you  are  not  their  daughter  ? ' 

'  No,  I  am  not — that  is,  I  believe  not.' 

The  little  girl  stopped  short,  as  if  assured  that  she  had 
said  too  much,  cast  her  eyes  down  on  the  ground,  and  folded 
her  arms,  so  that  her  hands  rested  on  each  opposite  shoulder. 

Timothy  whispered  to  me,  '  She  must  have  been  stolen, 
depend  upon  it.' 

'  Silence,'  said  I. 

The  little  girl  overheard  him,  and  looking  at  him,  put  her 
finger  across  her  mouth,  looking  to  where  Num  and  Jumbo 
were  sitting.  I  felt  an  interest  for  this  child  before  I  had 
been  an  hour  in  her  company ;  she  was  so  graceful,  so 
feminine,  so  mournful  in  the  expression  of  her  countenance. 
That  she  was  under  restraint  was  evident ;  but  still  she  did 
not  appear  to  be  actuated  by  fear.  Nattee  was  very  kind  to 
her,  and  the  child  did  not  seem  to  be  more  reserved  towards 
her  than  to  others  ;  her  mournful,  pensive  look  was  perhaps 
inherent  to  her  nature.  It  was  not  until  long  after  our  first 
acquaintance  that  I  ever  saw  a  smile  upon  her  features. 
Shortly  after  this  little  conversation,  Nattee  returned,  walking 
with  all  the  grace  and  dignity  of  a  queen.  Her  husband,  or 
Melchior,  as  I  shall  in  future  call  him,  soon  joined  us,  and  we 
sat  down  to  our  repast,  which  was  excellent.  It  was  composed 
of  almost  everything  ;  sometimes  I  found  myself  busy  with  the 
wing  of  a  fowl,  at  another,  the  leg  of  a  rabbit — then  a  piece  of 
mutton,  or  other  flesh  and  fowl,  which  I  could  hardly  dis- 
tinguish. To  these  were  added  every  sort  of  vegetable, 
among  which  potatoes  predominated,  forming  a  sort  of  stew, 
which  an  epicure  might  have  praised.  I  had  a  long  con- 
versation with  Melchior  in  the  evening ;  and,  not  to  weary  the 
reader,  I  shall  now  proceed  to  state  all  that  I  then  and 
subsequently  gathered  from  him  and  others,  relative  to  the 
parties  with  whom  we  were  associating. 

Melchior  would  not  state  who  and  what  he  was  previous  to 
his  having  joined  the  fraternity  of  gipsies  ;  that  he  was  not  of 
humble  birth,  and  that  he  had,  when  young,  quitted  his  friends 
out  of  love  for  Nattee,  or  from  some  other  causes  not  to  be 

54 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

revealed,  he  led  me  to  surmise.  He  had  been  many  years  in 
company  with  the  tribe,  and  although,  as  one  received  into  it, 
he  did  not  stand  so  high  in  rank  and  estimation  as  his  wife, 
still,  from  his  marriage  with  Nattee,  and  his  own  peculiar 
qualifications  and  dexterity,  he  was  almost  as  absolute  as  she 
was. 

Melchior  and  Natte*e  were  supposed  to  be  the  most  wealthy 
of  all  the  gipsies,  and,  at  the  same  time,  they  were  the  most 
liberal  of  their  wealth.  Melchior,  it  appeared,  gained  money 
in  three  different  characters ;  as  a  quack  doctor,  the  character 
in  which  we  first  saw  him ;  secondly,  as  a  juggler,  in  which 
art  he  was  most  expert ;  and,  thirdly,  as  a  fortune-teller,  and 
wise  man. 

Nattee,  as  I  before  mentioned,  was  of  very  high  rank,  or 
caste,  in  her  tribe.  At  her  first  espousal  of  Melchior  she  lost 
much  of  her  influence,  as  it  was  considered  a  degradation  ; 
but  she  was  then  very  young,  and  must  have  been  most 
beautiful.  The  talents  of  Melchior,  and  her  own  spirit, 
however,  soon  enabled  her  to  regain,  and  even  add  still  more 
to,  her  power  and  consideration  among  the  tribe  ;  and  it  was 
incredible  to  what  extent,  with  the  means  which  she  possessed, 
this  power  was  augmented. 

Melchior  had  no  children  by  his  marriage,  and,  as  far  as 
I  could  judge  from  the  few  words  which  would  escape  from 
the  lips  of  Nattee,  she  did  not  wish  for  any,  as  the  race  would 
not  be  considered  pure.  The  subdivision  of  the  tribe  which 
followed  Nattee  consisted  of  about  forty — men,  women,  and 
children.  These  were  ruled  by  her  during  the  absence  of  her 
husband,  who  alternately  assumed  different  characters,  as 
suited  his  purpose ;  but  in  whatever  town  Melchior  might 
happen  to  be,  Nattee  and  her  tribe  were  never  far  off,  and 
always  encamped  within  communication. 

I  ventured  to  question  Melchior  about  the  little  Fleta  ;  and 
he  stated  that  she  was  the  child  of  a  soldier's  wife,  who  had 
been  brought  to  bed,  and  died  a  few  hours  afterwards  ;  that, 
at  the  time,  she  was  on  her  way  to  join  her  husband,  and  had 
been  taken  ill  on  the  road — had  been  assisted  by  Nattee  and 
her  companions,  as  far  as  they  were  able — had  been  buried 
by  them,  and  that  the  child  had  been  reared  in  the  camp. 

In  time,  the  little  girl  became  very  intimate,  and  very 
partial  to  me.  I  questioned  her  as  to  her  birth,  telling  her 

55 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

what  Melchior  had  stated:  for  a  long  while  she  would  not 
answer ;  the  poor  child  had  learned  caution  even  at  that  early 
age  ;  but  after  we  were  more  intimate,  she  said,  that  which 
Melchior  had  stated  was  not  true.  She  could  recollect  very 
well  living  in  a  great  house,  with  everything  very  fine  about 
her ;  but  still  it  appeared  as  if  it  were  a  dream.  She 
recollected  two  white  ponies — and  a  lady  who  was  her  mamma 
— and  a  mulberry-tree,  where  she  stained  her  frock ;  some- 
times other  things  came  to  her  memory,  and  then  she  forgot 
them  again.  From  this  it  was  evident  that  she  had  been 
stolen,  and  was  probably  of  good  parentage ;  certainly,  if 
elegance  and  symmetry  of  person  and  form  could  prove  blood, 
it  never  was  more  marked  than  in  this  interesting  child.  Her 
abode  with  the  gipsies,  and  their  peculiar  mode  of  life  and 
manners,  had  rendered  her  astonishingly  precocious  in  intellect  j 
but  of  education  she  had  none,  except  what  was  instilled  into 
her  by  Melchior,  whom  she  always  accompanied  when  he 
assumed  his  character  as  a  juggler.  She  then  danced  on  the 
slack  wire,  at  the  same  time  performing  several  feats  in 
balancing,  throwing  of  oranges,  etc.  When  Melchior  was 
under  other  disguises,  she  remained  in  the  camp  with  Nattee. 
Of  Num,  or  Philotas,  as  Melchior  thought  proper  to  call 
him,  I  have  already  spoken.  He  was  a  half-witted  idiot, 
picked  up  in  one  of  Melchior's  excursions ;  and  as  he  stated 
to  me,  so  did  it  prove  to  be  the  fact,  that  when  on  the  stage, 
and  questioned  as  a  fool,  his  natural  folly,  and  idiotical 
vacancy  of  countenance,  were  applauded  by  the  spectators  as 
admirably  assumed.  Even  at  the  alehouses  and  taverns  where 
we  stopped,  every  one  imagined  that  all  his  folly  was  pretence, 
and  looked  upon  him  as  a  very  clever  fellow.  There  never 
was,  perhaps,  such  a  lachrymose  countenance  as  this  poor 
lad's ;  and  this  added  still  more  to  the  mirth  of  others,  being 
also  considered  as  put  on  for  the  occasion.  Stephen  Kemble 
played  Falstaff  without  stuffing — Num  played  the  fool  without 
any  effort  or  preparation.  Jumbo  was  also  '  picked  up ' ; 
this  was  not  done  by  Melchior,  who  stated,  that  anybody 
might  have  him  who  claimed  him ;  he  tumbled  with  the  fool 
upon  the  stage,  and  he  also  ate  pudding  to  amuse  the 
spectators — the  only  part  of  the  performance  which  was  suited 
to  Jumbo's  taste,  for  he  was  a  terrible  little  glutton,  and  never 
lost  any  opportunity  of  eating,  as  well  as  of  sleeping. 

56 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

And  now,  having  described  all  our  new  companions,  I 
must  narrate  what  passed  between  Melchior  and  me,  the  day 
after  our  joining  the  camp.  He  first  ran  through  his  various 
professions,  pointing  out  to  me  that  as  juggler  he  required  a 
confederate,  in  which  capacity  I  might  be  very  useful,  as  he 
would  soon  instruct  me  in  all  his  tricks.  As  a  quack  doctor 
he  wanted  the  services  of  both  Tim  and  myself  in  mixing  up, 
making  pills,  etc.,  and  also  in  assisting  him  in  persuading  the 
public  of  his  great  skill.  As  a  fortune-teller,  I  should  also  be 
of  great  service,  as  he  would  explain  to  me  hereafter.  In 
short,  he  wanted  a  person  of  good  personal  appearance  and 
education,  in  whom  he  might  confide  in  every  way.  As  to 
Tim,  he  might  be  made  useful,  if  he  chose,  in  various  ways  ; 
amongst  others,  he  wished  him  to  learn  tumbling  and  playing 
the  fool,  when,  at  times,  the  fool  was  required  to  give  a 
shrewd  answer  on  any  point  on  which  he  would  wish  the 
public  to  be  made  acquainted.  I  agreed  to  my  own  part  of 
the  performance,  and  then  had  some  conversation  with 
Timothy,  who  immediately  consented  to  do  his  best  in  what 
was  allotted  as  his  share.  Thus  was  the  matter  quickly 
arranged,  Melchior  observing,  that  he  had  said  nothing  about 
remuneration,  as  I  should  find  that  trusting  to  him  was  far 
preferable  to  stipulated  wages. 


CHAPTER   XI 

Whatever  may  be  the  opinion  of  the  reader,  he  cannot  assert  that  we 
are  no  conjurers — We  suit  our  wares  to  our  customers,  and  our  profits 
are  considerable. 

WE  had  been  three  days  in  the  camp  when  the  gathering  was 
broken  up,  each  gang  taking  their  own  way.  What  the 
meeting  was  about  I  could  not  exactly  discover :  one  occasion 
of  it  was  to  make  arrangements  relative  to  the  different 
counties  in  which  the  subdivisions  were  to  sojourn  during  the 
next  year,  so  that  they  might  know  where  to  communicate 
with  each  other,  and,  at  the  same  time,  not  interfere  by  being 
too  near;  but  there  were  many  other  points  discussed,  of 
which,  as  a  stranger,  I  was  kept  in  ignorance.  Melchior 
answered  all  my  questions  with  apparent  candour,  but  his 

57 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

habitual  deceit  was  such,  that  whether  he  told  the  truth  or  not 
was  impossible  to  be  ascertained  by  his  countenance. 

When  the  gathering  dispersed  we  packed  up,  and  located 
ourselves  about  two  miles  from  the  common,  on  the  borders  of 
a  forest  of  oak  and  ash.  Our  food  was  chiefly  game,  for  we 
had  some  excellent  poachers  among  us  ;  and  as  for  fish,  it 
appeared  to  be  at  their  command ;  there  was  not  a  pond  or  a 
pit  but  they  could  tell  in  a  moment  if  it  were  tenanted,  and  if 
tenanted,  in  half  an  hour  every  fish  would  be  floating  on  the 
top  of  the  water,  by  the  throwing  in  of  some  intoxicating  sort 
of  berry  ;  other  articles  of  food  occasionally  were  found  in  the 
caldron  ;  indeed,  it  was  impossible  to  fare  better  than  we  did, 
or  at  less  expense. 

Our  tents  were  generally  pitched  not  far  from  a  pool  of 
water,  and  to  avoid  any  unpleasant  search,  which  sometimes 
would  take  place,  everything  liable  to  detection  was  sunk 
under  the  water  until  it  was  required  for  cooking  ;  once  in  the 
pot,  it  was  considered  as  safe.  But  with  the  foraging, 
Timothy  and  I  had  nothing  to  do ;  we  participated  in  the 
eating,  without  asking  any  questions  as  to  how  it  was  pro- 
cured. 

My  time  was  chiefly  spent  in  company  with  Melchior,  who 
initiated  me  into  all  the  mysteries  of  cups  and  balls — juggling 
of  every  description — feats  with  cards,  and  made  me  acquainted 
with  all  his  apparatus  for  prepared  tricks.  For  hours  and 
hours  was  I  employed  by  his  directions  in  what  is  called 
*  making  the  pass '  with  a  pack  of  cards,  as  almost  all  tricks 
on  cards  depend  upon  your  dexterity  in  this  manoeuvre.  In 
about  a  month  I  was  considered  as  a  very  fair  adept ;  in  the 
meantime,  Timothy  had  to  undergo  his  career  of  gymnastics, 
and  was  to  be  seen  all  day  tumbling  and  re-tumbling,  until  he 
could  tumble  on  his  feet  again.  Light  and  active,  he  soon 
became  a  very  dexterous  performer,  and  could  throw  a 
somerset  either  backwards  or  forwards,  walk  on  his  hands, 
eat  fire,  pull  out  ribands,  and  do  fifty  other  tricks  to  amuse  a 
gaping  audience.  Jumbo  also  was  worked  hard,  to  bring 
down  his  fat,  and  never  was  allowed  his  dinner  until  he  had 
given  satisfaction  to  Melchior.  Even  little  Fleta  had  to 
practise  occasionally,  as  we  were  preparing  for  an  expedition. 
Melchior,  who  appeared  determined  to  create  an  effect,  left 
us  for  three  days,  and  returned  with  not  only  dresses  for 

58 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Timothy  and  me,  but  also  new  dresses  for  the  rest  of  the 
company ;  and  shortly  afterwards,  bidding  farewell  to  Natte'e 
and  the  rest  of  the  gipsies,  we  all  set  out — that  is,  Melchior, 
I,  Timothy,  Fleta,  Num,  and  Jumbo.  Late  in  the  evening  we 

arrived  at  the  little  town  of ,  and  took  up  our  quarters  at 

a  public-house,  with  the  landlord  of  which  Melchior  had 
already  made  arrangements. 

'Well,  Timothy,'  said  I,  as  soon  as  we  were  in  bed,  'how 
do  you  like  our  new  life  and  prospects  ? ' 

'  I  like  it  better  than  Mr.  Cophagus's  rudimans,  and 
carrying  out  physic,  at  all  events.  But  how  does  your  dignity 
like  turning  Merry  Andrew,  Japhet  ? ' 

'To  tell  you  the  truth,  I  do  not  dislike  it.  There  is  a 
wildness  and  a  devil-may-care  feeling  connected  with  it  which 
is  grateful  to  me  at  present.  How  long  it  may  last  I  cannot 
tell ;  but  for  a  year  or  two  it  appears  to  me  that  we  may  be 
very  happy.  At  all  events,  we  shall  see  the  world,  and  have 
more  than  one  profession  to  fall  back  upon.' 

'  That  is  true ;  but  there  is  one  thing  that  annoys  me, 
Japhet,  which  is,  we  may  have  difficulty  in  leaving  these 
people  when  we  wish.  Besides,  you  forget  that  you  are  losing 
sight  of  the  principal  object  you  had  in  view,  that  is,  of 
"  finding  out  your  father."  ' 

'  I  certainly  never  expect  to  find  him  among  the  gipsies,' 
replied  I,  'for  children  are  at  a  premium  with  them.  They 
steal  from  others,  and  are  not  very  likely  therefore  to  leave 
them  at  the  Foundling.  But  I  do  not  know  whether  I  have 
not  as  good  a  chance  in  our  present  employment  as  in  any 
other.  I  have  often  been  thinking  that  as  fortune-tellers  we 
may  get  hold  of  many  strange  secrets  ;  however,  we  shall  see. 
Melchior  says,  that  he  intends  to  appear  m  that  character  as 
soon  as  he  has  made  a  harvest  in  his  present  one.' 

'  What  do  you  think  of  Melchior,  now  that  you  have  been 
so  much  with  him  ? ' 

'  I  think  him  an  unprincipled  man,  but  still  with  many 
good  qualities.  He  appears  to  have  a  pleasure  in  deceit,  and 
to  have  waged  war  with  the  world  in  general.  Still  he  is 
generous,  and,  to  a  certain  degree,  confiding  ;  kind  in  his  dis- 
position, and  apparently  a  very  good  husband.  There  is 
something  on  his  mind  which  weighs  him  down  occasionally, 
and  checks  him  in  the  height  of  his  mirth.  It  comes  over 

59 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

him  like  a  dark  cloud  over  a  bright  summer  sun  ;  and  he  is 
all  gloom  for  a  few  minutes.  I  do  not  think  that  he  would 
now  commit  any  great  crime  ;  but  I  have  a  suspicion  that  he 
has  done  something  which  is  a  constant  cause  of  remorse.' 

'  You  are  a  very  good  judge  of  character,  Japhet.  But 
what  a  dear  little  child  is  that  Fleta  !  She  may  exclaim  with 
you — Who  is  my  father  ? ' 

*  Yes,  we  are  both  in  much  the  same  predicament,  and  that 
it  is  which  I  believe  has  so  much  increased  my  attachment  to 
her.  We  are  brother  and  sister  in  misfortune,  and  a  sister 
she  ever  shall  be  to  me,  if  such  is  the  will  of  Heaven.  But 
we  must  rise  early  to-morrow,  Tim ;  so  good-night.' 

'Yes,  to-morrow  it  will  be  juggle  and  tumble — eat  fire — 
um — and  so  on,  as  Mr.  Cophagus  would  have  said ;  so  good- 
night, Japhet.' 

The  next  morning  we  arrayed  ourselves  in  our  new  habili- 
ments ;  mine  were  silk  stockings,  shoes,  and  white  kerseymere 
knee'd  breeches,  a  blue  silk  waistcoat  loaded  with  tinsel,  and 
a  short  jacket  to  correspond  of  blue  velvet,  a  sash  round  my 
waist,  a  hat  and  a  plume  of  feathers.  Timothy  declared  I 
looked  very  handsome,  and  as  the  glass  said  the  same  as 
plain  as  it  could  speak,  I  believed  him.  Timothy's  dress  was 
a  pair  of  wide  Turkish  trowsers  and  red  jacket,  with  spangles. 
The  others  were  much  the  same.  Fleta  was  attired  in  small, 
white  satin,  Turkish  trowsers,  blue  muslin  and  silver -em- 
broidered frock,  worked  sandals,  and  her  hair  braided  and 
plaited  in  long  tails  behind,  and  she  looked  like  a  little  sylph. 
Melchior's  dress  was  precisely  the  same  as  mine,  and  a  more 
respectable  company  was  seldom  seen.  Some  musicians  had 
been  hired,  and  hand-bills  were  now  circulated  all  over  the 
town,  stating  that  Signer  Eugenio  Velotti,  with  his  company, 
would  have  the  honour  of  performing  before  the  nobility  and 
gentry.  The  bill  contained  the  fare  which  was  to  be  provided, 
and  intimated  the  hour  of  the  performance,  and  the  prices  to 
be  paid  for  the  seats.  The  performance  was  to  take  place  in 
a  very  large  room  attached  to  the  inn,  which,  previous  to  the 
decadence  of  the  town,  had  been  used  as  an  assembly-room. 
A  platform  was  erected  on  the  outside,  on  which  were  placed 
the  musicians,  and  where  we  all  occasionally  made  our 
appearance  in  our  splendid  dresses  to  attract  the  wonder  of 
the  people.  There  we  strutted  up  and  down,  all  but  poor 

60 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

little  Fleta,  who  appeared  to  shrink  at  the  display  from 
intuitive  modesty.  When  the  music  ceased,  a  smart  parley 
between  Melchior  and  me,  and  Philotas  and  Timothy,  as  the 
two  fools,  would  take  place  ;  and  Melchior  declared,  after  the 
perfonnance  was  over,  that  we  conducted  ourselves  to  admira- 
tion. 

'  Pray,  Mr.  Philotas,  do  me  the  favour  to  tell  me  how 
many  people  you  think  are  now  present  ? '  said  Melchior  to 
Num,  in  an  imperative  voice. 

'  I  don't  know,'  said  Num,  looking  up  with  his  idiotical, 
melancholy  face. 

'  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! '  roared  the  crowd  at  Num's  stupid  answer. 

'  The  fellow's  a  fool  ! '  said  Melchior,  to  the  gaping  audience. 

'Well,  then,  if  he  can't  tell,  perhaps  you  may,  Mr. 
Dionysius,'  said  I,  addressing  Tim. 

'  How  many,  sir  ?  Do  you  want  to  know  exactly  and 
directly  ? ' 

'Yes,  sir,  immediately.' 

'  Without  counting,  sir  ? ' 

'  Yes,  sir,  without  counting.' 

*  Well  then,  sir,  I  will  tell,  and  make  no  mistake  ;  there's 
exactly  as  many  again  as  half? 

'  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! '  from  the  crowd. 

'  That  won't  do,  sir.      How  many  may  be  the  half  ? ' 

'How  many  may  be  the  half?  Do  you  know  yourself, 
sir?' 

'  Yes,  sir,  to  be  sure  I  do.' 

'  Then  there's  no  occasion  for  me  to  tell  you.' 

'  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! ' 

'  Well  then,  sir,'  continued  Melchior  to  Philotas,  '  perhaps 
you'll  tell  how  many  ladies  and  gentlemen  we  may  expect  to 
honour  us  with  their  company  to-night.' 

'  How  many,  sir  ? ' 

'  Yes,  sir,  how  many.' 

'  I'm  sure  I  don't  know,'  said  Num,  after  a  pause. 

'  Positively  you  are  the  greatest  fool  I  ever  met  with,'  said 
Melchior. 

'  Well,  he  does  act  the  fool  as  natural  as  life,'  observed  the 
crowd.  '  What  a  stupid  face  he  does  put  on  ! ' 

'Perhaps  you  will  be  able  to  answer  that  question,  Mr. 
Dionysius,'  said  I  to  Tim. 

61 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  Yes,  sir,  I  know  exactly.' 
<  Well,  sir,  let's  hear.' 

'  In  the  first  place,  all  the  pretty  women  will  come,  and  all 
the  ugly  ones  stay  away ;  and  as  for  the  men,  all  those  who 
have  got  any  money  will  be  certain  to  come ;  those  who 
hav'n't,  poor  devils,  must  stay  outside.' 

*  Suppose,  sir,  you  make  a  bow  to  the  ladies. 

*  A  very  low  one,  sir  ? ' 
'Yes,  very  low  indeed.' 

Tim  bent  his  body  to  the  ground,  and  threw  a  somerset 
forward.  *  There,  sir ;  I  bowed  so  low,  that  I  came  up  on 
the  other  side.' 

'  Ha  !  ha  !  capital ! '  from  the  crowd. 

'  I've  got  a  round  turn  in  my  back,  sir,'  continued  Tim, 
rubbing  himself.  '  Hadn't  I  better  take  it  out  again  ? ' 

'  By  all  means.' 

Tim  threw  a  somerset  backwards.  '  There,  sir,  all's  right 
now.  One  good  turn  deserves  another.  Now  I'll  be  off.' 

*  Where  are  you  going  to,  sir  ? ' 

'Going,  sir!  Why,  I  left  my  lollipop  in  the  tinder-box, 
and  I'm  going  to  fetch  it.' 

4  Ha  !  ha  !  ha  ! ' 

'  Strike  up,  music ! '  and  Master  Jumbo  commenced 
tumbling. 

Such  was  the  elegant  wit  with  which  we  amused  and  at- 
tracted the  audience.  Perhaps,  had  we  been  more  refined, 
we  should  not  have  been  so  successful. 

That  evening  we  had  the  room  as  full  as  it  could  hold. 
Signor  Velotti  alias  Melchior  astonished  them.  The  cards 
appeared  to  obey  his  commands — rings  were  discovered  in 
lady's  shoes — watches  were  beat  to  a  powder  and  made  whole 
— canary  birds  flew  out  of  eggs.  The  audience  were  delighted. 
The  entertainment  closed  with  Fleta's  performance  on  the 
slack  wire ;  and  certainly  never  was  there  anything  more 
beautiful  and  graceful.  Balanced  on  the  wire  in  a  continual, 
waving  motion,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  a  point  to  enable  her  to 
maintain  her  position,  she  performed  several  feats,  such  as  the 
playing  with  five  oranges,  balancing  swords,  etc.  Her  extreme 
beauty — her  very  picturesque  and  becoming  dress — her 
mournful  expression  and  downcast  eyes — her  gentle  manner, 
appeared  to  win  the  hearts  of  the  audience  ;  and  when  she 

62 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

was  assisted  off  from  her  perilous  situation  by  Melchior  and 
me,  and  made  her  graceful  courtesy,  the  plaudits  were 
unanimous. 

When  the  company  dispersed  I  went  to  her,  intending  to 
praise  her,  but  I  found  her  in  tears.  'What  is  the  matter, 
my  dear  Fleta  ?  ' 

'  Oh,  nothing  !  don't  say  I  have  been  crying — but  I  cannot 
bear  it — so  many  people  looking  at  me.  Don't  say  a  word  to 
Melchior — I  won't  cry  any  more.' 


CHAPTER    XII 

It  is  very  easy  to  humbug  those  who  are  so  eager  to  be  humbugged  as 
people  are  in  this  world  of  humbug — We  show  ourselves  excessively 
disinterested,  which  astonishes  everybody. 

I  KISSED  and  consoled  her ;  she  threw  her  arm  round  my 
neck,  and  remained  there  with  her  face  hid  for  some  time. 
We  then  joined  the  others  at  supper.  Melchior  was  much 
pleased  with  our  success,  and  highly  praised  the  conduct  of 
Timothy  and  myself,  which  he  pronounced  was;  for  the  first 
attempt,  far  beyond  his  expectations. 

We  continued  to  astonish  all  the  good  people  of for 

five  days,  when  we  discovered  the  indubitable  fact,  that  there 
was  no  more  money  to  be  extracted  from  their  pockets,  upon 
which  we  resumed  our  usual  clothes  and  smock  frocks,  and 
with  our  bundles  in  our  hands,  set  off  for  another  market  town, 
about  fifteen  miles  distant.  There  we  were  equally  successful, 
and  Melchior  was  delighted  with  our  having  proved  such  a 
powerful  acquisition  to  his  troop  ;  but  not  to  dwell  too  long 
upon  one  subject,  I  shall  inform  the  reader  that,  after  a  trip 
of  six  weeks,  during  which  we  were  very  well  received,  we  once 
more  returned  to  the  camp,  which  had  located  within  five  miles 
of  our  last  scene  of  action.  Every  one  was  content — we  were 
all  glad  to  get  back  and  rest  from  our  labours.  Melchior  was 
pleased  with  his  profits,  poor  little  Fleta  overjoyed  to  be  once 
more  in  the  seclusion  of  her  tent,  and  Nattee  very  glad  to  hear 
of  our  good  fortune,  and  to  see  her  husband.  Timothy  and  I 
had  already  proved  ourselves  so  useful,  that  Melchior  treated 

64 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

us  with  the  greatest  friendship  and  confidence — and  he  made 
us  a  present  out  of  the  gains,  for  our  exertions  ;  to  me  he  gave 
ten,  and  to  Timothy  five,  pounds. 

'  There,  Japhet,  had  you  hired  yourself  I  should  not  have 
paid  you  more  than  seven  shillings  per  week,  finding  you  in 
food  ;  but  you  must  acknowledge  that  for  six  weeks  that  is  not 
bad  pay.  However,  your  earnings  will  depend  upon  our 
success,  and  I  rather  think  that  we  shall  make  a  much  better 
thing  of  it  when  next  we  start,  which  will  be  in  about  a  fort- 
night ;  but  we  have  some  arrangements  to  make.  Has  Timothy 
a  good  memory  ? ' 

'  I  think  he  has.' 

'  That  is  well.  I  told  you  before  that  we  are  to  try  the 
"  Wise  Man," — but  first  we  must  have  Nattee  in  play.  To- 
morrow we  will  start  for ,'  mentioning  a  small  quiet  town 

about  four  miles  off. 

We  did  so,  early  the  next  morning,  and  arrived  about  noon, 
pitching  our  tents  on  the  common,  not  far  from  the  town  ;  but 
in  this  instance  we  left  all  the  rest  of  our  gang  behind. 
Melchior's  own  party  and  his  two  tents  were  all  that  were 
brought  by  the  donkeys. 

Melchior  and  I,  dressed  as  countrymen,  went  into  the  town 
at  dusk,  and  entered  a  respectable  sort  of  inn,  taking  our  seats  at 
one  of  the  tables  in  the  tap-room,  and,  as  we  had  already  planned, 
after  we  had  called  for  beer,  commenced  a  conversation  in  the 
hearing  of  the  others  who  were  sitting  drinking  and  smoking. 

'Well,  I  never  will  believe  it — it's  all  cheat  and  trickery,' 
said  Melchior,  '  and  they  only  do  it  to  pick  your  pocket.  Tell 
your  fortune,  indeed  !  I  suppose  she  promised  you  a  rich  wife 
and  half-a-dozen  children.' 

'  No,  she  did  not,'  replied  I,  '  for  I  am  too  young  to  marry; 
but  she  told  me  what  I  know  has  happened.' 

<  Well,  what  was  that  ? ' 

*  Why,  she  told  me  that  my  mother  had  married  again,  and 
turned  me  out  of  doors  to  work  for  my  bread.' 

1  But  she  might  have  heard  that.' 

'  How  could  she  ?  No,  that's  not  possible ;  but  she  told 
me  I  had  a  mole  on  my  knee,  which  was  a  sign  of  luck.  Now 
how  could  she  know  that  ?  ' 

'  Well,  I  grant  that  was  odd — and  pray  what  else  did  she 
promise  you  ? ' 

F  65 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Why,  she  said  that  I  should  meet  with  my  dearest  friend 
to-night.  Now  that  does  puzzle  me,  for  I  have  but  one  in  the 
world,  and  he  is  a  long  way  off.' 

'  Well,  if  you  do  meet  your  friend,  then  I'll  believe  her ; 
but  if  not,  it  has  been  all  guess  work ;  and  pray  what  did  you 
pay  for  all  this — was  it  a  shilling,  or  did  she  pick  your 
pocket?' 

'That's  what  puzzles  me, — she  refused  to  take  anything. 
I  offered  it  again  and  again,  and  she  said,  "  No ;  that  she 
would  have  no  money — that  her  gift  was  not  to  be  sold." ' 

'  Well,  that  is  odd.  Do  you  hear  what  this  young  man 
says?'  said  Melchior,  addressing  the  others,  who  had  swallowed 
every  word. 

'  Yes,'  replied  one  ;  '  but  who  is  this  person  ? ' 

'The  queen  of  the  gipsies,  I  am  told.  I  never  saw  such 
a  wonderful  woman  in  my  life — her  eye  goes  right  through 
you.  I  met  her  on  the  common,  and,  as  she  passed,  she 
dropped  a  handkerchief.  I  ran  back  to  give  it  her,  and  then 
she  thanked  me  and  said,  "  Open  your  hand  and  let  me  see 
the  palm.  Here  are  great  lines,  and  you  will  be  fortunate  "  ; 
and  then  she  told  me  a  great  deal  more,  and  bid  God  bless  me.' 

'  Then  if  she  said  that,  she  cannot  have  dealings  with  the 
devil)  observed  Melchior. 

'  Very  odd — very  strange — take  no  money — queen  of  the 
gipsies,'  was  echoed  from  all  sides. 

The  landlady  and  the  barmaid  listened  with  wonder,  when 
who  should  come  in,  as  previously  agreed,  but  Timothy.  I 
pretended  not  to  see  him  ;  but  he  came  up  to  me,  seizing  me 
by  the  hand,  and  shaking  it  with  apparent  delight,  and  crying, 
'  Wilson,  have  you  forgot  Smith  ? ' 

'  Smith  ! '  cried  I,  looking  earnestly  in  his  face.  '  Why,  so 
it  is.  How  came  you  here  ? ' 

'  I  left  Dublin  three  days  ago,'  replied  he  ;  'but  how  I  came 
here  into  this  house,  is  one  of  the  strangest  things  that  ever 
occurred.  I  was  walking  over  the  common,  when  a  tall 
handsome  woman  looked  at  me,  and  said,  '  Young  man,  if 
you  will  go  into  the  third  public-house  you  pass,  you  will  meet 
an  old  friend,  who  expects  you.'  I  thought  she  was  laughing 
at  me  ;  but  as  it  mattered  very  little  in  which  house  I  passed 
the  night,  I  thought,  for  the  fun  of  the  thing,  I  might  as  well 
take  her  advice.' 

66 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  How  strange  ! '  cried  Melchior,  *  and  she  told  him  the 
same — that  is,  he  would  meet  a  friend.3 

'Strange — very  strange — wonderful — astonishing!'  was 
echoed  from  all  quarters,  and  the  fame  of  the  gipsy  was  already 
established. 

Timothy  and  I  sat  down  together,  conversing  as  old  friends, 
and  Melchior  went  about  from  one  to  the  other,  narrating  the 
wonderful  occurrence  till  past  midnight,  when  we  all  three 
took  beds  at  the  inn,  as  if  we  were  travellers. 

The  report  which  we  had  circulated  that  evening  induced 
many  people  to  go  out  to  see  Nattee,  who  appeared  to  take  no 
notice  of  them  ;  and  when  asked  to  tell  fortunes,  waved  them 
away  with  her  hand.  But,  although  this  plan  of  Melchior's 
was,  for  the  first  two  or  three  days,  very  expedient,  yet,  as  it 
was  not  intended  to  last,  Timothy,  who  remained  with  me  at 
the  inn,  became  very  intimate  with  the  barmaid,  and  obtained 
from  her  most  of  the  particulars  of  her  life.  I,  also,  from 
repeated  conversations  with  the  landlady,  received  information 
very  important,  relative  to  herself  and  many  of  the  families  in 
the  town  ;  but  as  the  employment  of  Natte'e  was  for  an  ulterior 
object,  we  contented  ourselves  with  gaining  all  the  information 
we  could  before  we  proceeded  further.  After  we  had  been 
there  a  week,  and  the  fame  of  the  gipsy  woman  had  been 
marvellously  increased — many  things  having  been  asserted  of 
her  which  were  indeed  truly  improbable — Melchior  agreed 
that  Timothy  should  persuade  the  barmaid  to  try  if  the  gipsy 
woman  would  tell  her  fortune  :  the  girl  with  some  trepidation 
agreed,  but  at  the  same  time,  expecting  to  be  refused,  con- 
sented to  walk  with  him  over  the  common.  Timothy  advised 
her  to  pretend  to  pick  up  a  sixpence  when  near  to  Nattee,  and 
ask  her  if  it  did  not  belong  to  her ;  and  the  barmaid  acted 
upon  his  suggestions,  having  just  before  that  quitted  the  arm 
of  Timothy,  who  had  conducted  her. 

'  Did  you  drop  a  sixpence  ?  I  have  picked  up  one,'  said 
the  girl,  trembling  with  fear  as  she  addressed  Nattee. 

'  Child,'  replied  Natte'e,  who  was  prepared,  '  I  have  neither 
dropped  a  sixpence  nor  have  you  found  one — but  never  mind 
that,  I  know  that  which  you  wish,  and  I  know  who  you  are. 
Now  what  would  you  with  me  ?  Is  it  to  inquire  whether  the 
landlord  and  landlady  of  the  Golden  Lion  intend  to  keep  you 
in  their  service  ? ' 

67 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  No,'  replied  the  girl,  frightened  at  what  she  heard  ;  '  not 
to  inquire  that,  but  to  ask  what  my  fortune  will  be  ? ' 

'  Open  your  palm,  pretty  maid,  and  I  will  tell  you.  Hah  ! 
I  see  that  you  were  born  in  the  West — your  father  is  dead — 
your  mother  is  in  service — and  let  me  see, — you  have  a 
brother  at  sea — now  in  the  West  Indies.' 

At  this  intelligence,  all  of  which,  as  may  be  supposed,  had 
been  gathered  by  us,  the  poor  girl  was  so  frightened  that  she 
fell  down  in  a  swoon,  and  Timothy  carried  her  off.  When 
she  was  taken  home  to  the  inn,  she  was  so  ill  that  she  was 
put  into  bed,  and  what  she  did  say  was  so  incoherent,  that, 
added  to  Timothy's  narrative,  the  astonishment  of  the  land- 
lady and  others  was  beyond  all  bounds.  I  tried  very  hard  to 
bring  the  landlady,  but  she  would  not  consent ;  and  now 
Nattee  was  pestered  by  people  of  higher  condition,  who 
wished  to  hear  what  she  would  say.  Here  Nattee's  powers 
were  brought  into  play.  She  would  not  refuse  to  see  them, 
but  would  not  give  answers  till  she  had  asked  questions,  and, 
as  from  us  she  had  gleaned  much  general  information,  so  by 
making  this  knowledge  appear  in  her  questions  to  them,  she 
made  them  believe  she  knew  more.  If  a  young  person  came 
to  her,  she  would  immediately  ask  the  name — of  that  name 
she  had  all  the  references  acquired  from  us  as  to  family  and 
connexions.  Bearing  upon  them,  she  would  ask  a  few  more, 
and  then  give  them  an  abrupt  dismissal. 

This  behaviour  was  put  up  with  from  one  of  her  command- 
ing presence,  who  refused  money,  and  treated  those  who 
accosted  her  as  if  she  was  their  superior.  Many  came  again 
and  again,  telling  her  all  they  knew,  and  acquainting  her 
with  every  transaction  of  their  life,  to  induce  her  to  prophesy, 
for  such,  she  informed  them,  was  the  surest  way  to  call  the 
spirit  upon  her.  By  these  means  we  obtained  the  secret 
history  of  the  major  part,  that  is,  the  wealthier  part  of  the 

town  of ;  and  although  the  predictions  of  Nattee  were 

seldom  given,  yet  when  given,  they  were  given  with  such 
perfect  and  apparent  knowledge  of  the  parties,  that  when  she 
left,  which  she  did  about  six  weeks  after  her  first  appearance, 
the  whole  town  rang  with  accounts  of  her  wonderful  powers. 

It  will  appear  strange  that  Melchior  would  not  permit 
Natte'e  to  reap  a  harvest,  which  might  have  been  great ;  but 
the  fact  was  that  he  only  allowed  the  seed  to  be  sown  that  a 

68 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

greater  harvest  might  be  gathered  hereafter.  Natte'e  dis- 
appeared, the  gipsies'  tent  was  no  longer  on  the  common,  and 
the  grass,  which  had  been  beaten  down  into  a  road  by  the 
feet  of  the  frequent  applicants  to  her,  was  again  permitted  to 
spring  up.  We  also  took  our  departure,  and  rejoined  the 
camp  with  Nattee,  where  we  remained  for  a  fortnight,  to 
permit  the  remembrance  of  her  to  subside  a  little — knowing 
that  the  appetite  was  alive,  and  would  not  be  satisfied  until  it 
was  appeased. 

After  that  time  Melchior,  Timothy,  and  I  again  set  off  for 

the  town  of ,  and  stopping  at  a  superior  inn  in  another 

part  of  the  town,  dressed  as  travellers,  that  is,  people  who  go 
about  the  country  for  orders  from  the  manufacturers,  ordered 
our  beds  and  supper  in  the  coffee-room.  The  conversation 
was  soon  turned  upon  the  wonderful  powers  of  Nattee,  the 
gipsy.  '  Nonsense,'  said  Melchior,  '  she  knows  nothing.  I 
have  heard  of  her.  But  there  is  a  man  coming  this  way 
(should  he  happen  to  pass  through  this  town)  who  will  surprise 
and  frighten  you.  No  one  knows  who  he  is.  He  is  named 
the  Great  Aristodemus.  He  knows  the  past,  the  present,  and 
the  future.  He  never  looks  at  people's  hands — he  only  looks 
you  in  the  face,  and  woe  be  to  them  who  tell  him  a  lie. 
Otherwise,  he  is  good  tempered  and  obliging,  and  will  tell 
what  will  come  to  pass,  and  his  predictions  never  have  been 
known  to  fail.  They  say  that  he  is  hundreds  of  years  old, 
and  his  hair  is  white  as  silver.'  At  this  information  many 
expressed  their  doubts,  and  many  others  vaunted  the  powers 
of  the  gipsy.  Melchior  replied,  'that  all  he  knew  was,  that 
for  the  sum  of  two  guineas  paid  down,  he  had  told  him  of  a 
legacy  left  him  of  six  hundred  pounds,  which  otherwise  he 
would  never  have  known  of  or  received.'  All  the  town  of 

being  quite    alive    for    fortune -telling,  this    new  report 

gained  wind,  and  after  a  week's  sojourn,  Melchior  thought 
that  the  attempt  should  be  made. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER   XIII 

The  seed  having  been  carefully  sown,  we  now  reap  a  golden  harvest — We 
tell  everybody  what  they  knew  before,  and  we  are  looked  upon  as 
most  marvellous  by  most  marvellous  fools. 

WE  accordingly  packed  up  and  departed  to  another  market 
town.  Timothy  dressed  in  a  sombre  suit  of  black,  very  much 
like  an  undertaker,  was  provided  with  a  horse,  with  the 
following  directions  :  to  proceed  leisurely  until  he  was  within 

half  a  mile  of  the  town  of  ,  and   then  to  gallop  in  as 

fast  as  he  could,  stop  at  the  best  inn  in  the  place,  and  order 
apartments  for  the  Great  Aristodemus,  who  might  be  expected 
in  half  an  hour.  Everything  in  this  world  depends  upon 
appearances,  that  is,  when  you  intend  to  gull  it ;  and  as  every 
one  in  the  town  had  heard  of  the  Great  Aristodemus,  so  every 
one  was  anxious  to  know  something  about  him,  and  Timothy 
was  pestered  with  all  manner  of  questions  ;  but  he  declared 
that  he  was  only  his  courier,  and  could  only  tell  what  other 
people  said  ;  but  then  what  other  people  said,  by  Timothy's 
account,  was  very  marvellous  indeed.  Timothy  had  hardly 
time  to  secure  the  best  rooms  in  the  hotel,  when  Melchior, 
dressed  in  a  long  flowing  silk  gown,  with  a  wig  of  long  white 
hair,  a  square  cap,  and  two  or  three  gold  chains  hanging  from 
his  neck,  certainly  most  admirably  disguised,  and  attended  by 
me  in  the  dress  of  a  German  student,  a  wig  of  long  brown 
locks  hanging  down  my  shoulders,  made  our  appearance  in  a 
post-chaise  and  four,  and  drove  up  to  the  door  of  the  inn,  at  a 
pace  which  shook  every  house  in  the  street,  and  occasioned 
every  window  to  be  tenanted  with  one  or  more  heads  to 
ascertain  the  cause  of  this  unusual  occurrence,  for  it  was  not 
a  very  great  town,  although  once  of  importance ;  but  the 
manufactures  had  been  removed,  and  it  was  occupied  by  those 
who  had  become  independent  by  their  own  exertions,  or  by 
those  of  their  forefathers. 

The  door  of  the  chaise  was  opened  by  the  obsequious 
Timothy,  who  pushed  away  the  ostlers  and  waiters,  as  if 
unworthy  to  approach  his  master,  and  the  Great  Aristodemus 
made  his  appearance.  As  he  ascended  the  steps  of  the  door, 

70 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

his  passage  was  for  a  moment  barred  by  one  whose  profession 
Melchior  well  knew.  *  Stand  aside,  exciseman  ! '  said  he,  in  a 
commanding  voice.  '  No  one  crosses  my  path  with  impunity.' 
Astonished  at  hearing  his  profession  thus  mentioned,  the 
exciseman,  who  was  the  greatest  bully  in  the  town,  slipped  on 
one  side  with  consternation,  and  all  those  present  lifted  up 
their  eyes  and  hands  with  astonishment.  The  Great  Aristo- 
demus  gained  his  room,  and  shut  his  door ;  and  I  went  out  to 


'  Tlic  Great  Aristodemus  made  his  appearance.1 

pay  for  the  chaise  and  order  supper,  while  Timothy  and 
the  porters  were  busy  with  our  luggage,  which  was  very 
considerable. 

*  My  master  will  not  see  any  one,'  said  I  to  the  landlord  : 
'he  quits  this  town  to-morrow,  if  the  letters  arrive  which  he 
expects  by  the  post ;  therefore,  pray  get  rid  of  this  crowd,  and 
let  him  be  quiet,  for  he  is  very  tired,  having  travelled  one 
hundred  and  fifty  miles  since  the  dawn  of  day.' 

When  Tim  and  I  had  performed  this  duty,  we  joined 
Melchior  in  his  room,  leaving  the  news  to  be  circulated. 

71 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  This  promises  well,'  observed  Melchior ;  '  up  to  the  present 
we  have  expended  much  time  and  money ;  now  we  must  see 
if  we  cannot  recover  it  tenfold.  Japhet,  you  must  take  an 
opportunity  of  going  out  again  after  supper,  and  make 
inquiries  of  the  landlord  what  poor  people  they  have  in  the 
town,  as  I  am  very  generous,  and  like  to  relieve  them ;  you 
may  observe,  that  all  the  money  offered  to  me  for  practising 
my  art,  I  give  away  to  the  poor,  having  no  occasion  for  it.' 
This  I  did,  and  we  then  sat  down  to  supper,  and  having 
unpacked  our  baggage,  went  to  bed,  after  locking  the  door  of 
the  room,  and  taking  out  the  key. 

The  next  morning  we  had  everything  in  readiness,  and  as 
the  letters,  as  the  reader  may  suppose,  did  not  arrive  by  the 
post,  we  were  obliged  to  remain,  and  the  landlord  ventured  to 
hint  to  me,  that  several  people  were  anxious  to  consult  my 
master.  I  replied,  that  I  would  speak  to  him,  but  it  was 
necessary  to  caution  those  who  came,  that  they  must  either 
offer  gold — or  nothing  at  all.  I  brought  his  consent  to  see 
one  or  two,  but  no  more.  Now,  although  we  had  various 
apparatus  to  use,  when  required,  it  was  thought  that  the  effect 
would  be  greater,  if,  in  the  first  instance,  everything  was 
simple.  Melchior,  therefore,  remained  sitting  at  the  table, 
which  was  covered  with  a  black  cloth,  worked  with  curious 
devices,  and  a  book  of  hieroglyphics  before  him,  and  an  ivory 
wand,  tipped  with  gold,  lying  by  the  book.  Timothy  standing 
at  the  door,  with  a  short  Roman  sword  buckled  round  his  belt, 
and  I,  in  a  respectful  attitude,  behind  the  Great  Aristodemus. 

The  first  person  who  was  admitted  was  the  lady  of  the 
mayor  of  the  town  ;  nothing  could  be  more  fortunate,  as  we 
had  every  information  relative  to  her  and  her  spouse,  for 
people  in  high  places  are  always  talked  of.  Aristodemus 
waved  his  hand,  and  I  brought  forward  a  chair  in  silence,  and 
motioned  that  she  should  be  seated.  Aristodemus  looked  her 
in  her  face,  and  then  turned  over  several  leaves,  until  he  fixed 
upon  a  page,  which  he  considered  attentively.  *  Mayoress  of 
,  what  wouldst  thou  with  me  ? ' 


She  started,  and  turned  pale.      *  I  would  ask- 


'  I  know ;  thou  wouldst  ask  many  things,  perhaps,  had  I 
time  to  listen.  Amongst  others  thou  wouldst  ask  if  there  is 
any  chance  of  thy  giving  an  heir  to  thy  husband.  Is  it 
not  so  ? ' 

72 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Yes,  it  is,'  replied  the  lady,  fetching  her  breath. 

'So  do  I  perceive  by  this  book ;  but  let  me'  put  one 
question  to  thee.  Wouldst  thou  have  blessings  showered  on 
thee,  yet  do  no  good  ?  Thou  art  wealthy — yet  what  dost 
thou  and  thy  husband  do  with  these  riches  ?  Are  ye  liberal  ? 
No.  Give,  and  it  shall  be  given.  I  have  said.' 

Aristodemus  waved  his  hand,  and  the  lady  rose  to  with- 
draw. A  guinea  was  in  her  fingers,  and  her  purse  in  her 
hand ;  she  took  out  four  more,  and  added  them  to  the  other, 
and  laid  them  on  the  table. 

1  'Tis  well,  lady ;  charity  shall  plead  for  thee.  Artolphe, 
let  that  money  be  distributed  among  the  poor.' 

I  bowed  in  silence,  and  the  lady  retired. 

*  Who  will  say  that   I   do  no  good  ? '  observed  Melchior, 
smiling,  as  soon  as  she  was  gone.     l  Her  avarice  and  that  of 
her  husband  are  as  notorious  as  their  anxiety  for  children. 
Now,  if  I  persuade  them  to  be  liberal,  I  do  service.' 

'  But  you  have  given  her  hopes.' 

4 1  have,  and  the  very  hope  will  do  more  to  further  their 
wishes  than  anything  else.  It  is  despair  which  too  often 
prevents  those  who  have  no  children  from  having  any.  How 
often  do  you  see  a  couple,  who,  after  years  waiting  for  children, 
have  at  last  given  up  their  hope,  and  resigned  themselves  to 
the  dispensations  of  Providence,  and  then,  when  their  anxiety 
has  subsided,  have  obtained  a  family  ?  Japhet,  I  am  a  shrewd 
observer  of  human  nature.' 

*  That  I  believe,'  replied  I  ;  *  but  I  do  not  believe  your  last 
remark  to  be  correct — but  Timothy  raps  at  the  door.' 

Another  lady  entered  the  room,  and  then  started  back,  as 
if  she  would  retreat,  so  surprised  was  she  at  the  appearance  of 
the  Great  Aristodemus  ;  but  as  Timothy  had  turned  the  key, 
her  escape  was  impossible.  She  was  unknown  to  us,  which 
was  rather  awkward ;  but  Melchior  raised  his  eyes  from  his 
book,  and  waved  his  hand  as  before,  that  she  should  be 
seated.  With  some  trepidation  she  stated  that  she  was  a 
widow,  whose  dependence  was  upon  an  only  son  now  at  sea ; 
that  she  had  not  heard  of  him  for  a  long  while,  and  was  afraid 
that  some  accident  had  happened ;  that  she  was  in  the 
greatest  distress — *  and,'  continued  she,  '  I  have  nothing  to 
offer  but  this  ring.  Can  you  tell  me  if  he  is  yet  alive  ? '  cried 
she,  bursting  into  tears ;  '  but  if  you  have  not  the  art  you 

73 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

pretend  to,  oh  do  not  rob  a  poor,  friendless  creature,  but  let 
me  depart ! ' 

1  When  did  you  receive  your  last  letter  from  him  ? '  said 
Melchior. 

'  It  is  now  seven  months — dated  from  Bahia,'  replied  she, 
pulling  it  out  of  her  reticule,  and  covering  her  face  with  her 
handkerchief. 

Melchior  caught  the  address,  and  then  turned  the  letter 
over  on  the  other  side,  as  it  lay  on  the  table.  '  Mrs.  Watson,' 
said  he. 

*  Heavens  !  do  you  know  my  name  ? '  cried  the  woman. 

'  Mrs.  Watson,  I  do  not  require  to  read  your  son's  letter — 
I  know  its  contents.'  He  then  turned  over  his  book,  and 
studied  for  a  few  seconds.  *  Your  son  is  alive.' 

*  Thank  God  ! '  cried  she,  clasping  her  hands,  and  dropping 
her  reticule. 

'  But  you  must  not  expect  his  return  too  soon — he  is  well 
employed.' 

Oh  !  I  care  not — he  is  alive — he  is  alive  !  God  bless  you 
— God  bless  you  ! ' 

Melchior  made  a  sign  to  me,  pointing  to  the  five  guineas 
and  the  reticule ;  and  I  contrived  to  slip  them  into  her 
reticule,  while  she  sobbed  in  her  handkerchief. 

1  Enough,  madam  ;  you  must  go,  for  others  require  my  aid.' 

The  poor  woman  rose,  and  offered  the  ring. 

'  Nay,  nay,  I  want  not  thy  money  ;  I  take  from  the  rich, 
that  I  may  distribute  to  the  poor — but  not  from  the  widow  in 
affliction.  Open  thy  bag.'  The  widow  took  up  her  bag,  and 
opened  it.  Melchior  dropped  in  the  ring,  taking  his  wand 
from  the  table,  waved  it,  and  touched  the  bag.  '  As  thou  art 
honest,  so  may  thy  present  wants  be  relieved.  Seek,  and 
thou  shalt  find.' 

The  widow  left  the  room  with  tears  of  gratitude  ;  and  I 
must  say,  that  I  was  affected  with  the  same.  When  she  had 
gone,  I  observed  to  Melchior,  that  up  to  the  present  he  had 
toiled  for  nothing. 

'Very  true,  Japhet;  but  depend  upon  it,  if  I  assisted  that 
poor  woman  from  no  other  feelings  than  interested  motives,  I 
did  well ;  but  I  tell  thee  candidly,  I  did  it  from  compassion. 
We  are  odd  mixtures  of  good  and  evil.  I  wage  war  with 
fools  and  knaves,  but  not  with  all  the  world.  I  gave  that 

74 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

money  freely — she  required  it ;  and  it  may  be  put  as  a  set-off 
against  my  usual  system  of  fraud,  or  it  may  not — at  all  events, 
I  pleased  myself.' 

1  But  you  told  her  that  her  son  was  alive.' 

*  Very  true,  and  he  may  be  dead ;  but  is  it  not  well  to 
comfort  her — even  for  a  short  time,  to  relieve  that  suspense 
which  is  worse  than  the  actual  knowledge  of  his  death  ? 
Sufficient  for  the  day  is  the  evil  thereof.' 

It  would  almost  have  appeared  that  this  good  action  of 
Melchior  met  with  its  reward,  for  the  astonishment  of  the 
widow  at  finding  the  gold  in  her  reticule — her  narrative  of 
what  passed,  and  her  assertion  (which  she  firmly  believed  to 
be  true),  that  she  had  never  left  her  reticule  out  of  her  hand, 
and  that  Melchior  had  only  touched  it  with  his  wand,  raised 
his  reputation  to  that  degree,  that  nothing  else  was  talked 
about  throughout  the  town,  and,  to  crown  all,  the  next  day's 
post  brought  her  a  letter  and  remittances  from  her  son  ;  and 
the  grateful  woman  returned,  and  laid  ten  guineas  on  the 
black  cloth,  showering  a  thousand  blessings  upon  Melchior, 
and  almost  worshipped  him  as  a  supernatural  being.  This 
was  a  most  fortunate  occurrence,  and,  as  Melchior  prophesied, 
the  harvest  did  now  commence.  In  four  days  we  had  received 
upwards  of  ^200,  and  we  then  thought  it  time  that  we  should 
depart.  The  letters  arrived,  which  were  expected  ;  and  when 
we  set  on  in  a  chaise  and  four,  the  crowd  to  see  us  was  so 
great,  that  it  was  with  difficulty  we  could  pass  through  it. 


CHAPTER   XIV 

In  which  Melchior  talks  very  much  like  an  astrologer,  and  Tim  and  I 
return  to  our  old  trade  of  making  up  innocent  prescriptions. 

WE  had  taken  our  horses  for  the  next  town  ;  but  as  soon  as 
we  were  fairly  on  the  road,  I  stopped  the  boys,  and  told  them 
that  the  Great  Aristodemus  intended  to  observe  the  planets 
and  stars  that  night,  and  that  they  were  to  proceed  to  a 
common  which  I  mentioned.  The  post-boys,  who  were  well 
aware  of  his  fame,  and  as  fully  persuaded  of  it  as  everybody 
else,  drove  to  the  common ;  we  descended,  took  off  the 

75 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

luggage,  and  received  directions  from  Melchior  in  their 
presence  about  the  instruments,  to  which  the  boys  listened 
with  open  mouths  and  wonderment.  I  paid  them  well,  and 
told  them  they  might  return,  which  they  appeared  very  glad 
to  do.  They  reported  what  had  occurred,  and  this  simple 
method  of  regaining  our  camp  added  to  the  astonishment  of 

the  good  town  of  .  When  they  were  out  of  sight  we 

resumed  our  usual  clothes,  packed  all  up,  carried  away  most 
of  our  effects,  and  hid  the  others  in  the  furze  to  be  sent  for 
the  next  night,  not  being  more  than  two  miles  from  the  camp. 
We  soon  arrived,  and  were  joyfully  received  by  Fleta  and 
Nattee. 

As  we  walked  across  the  common,  I  observed  to  Melchior, 
1 1  wonder  if  these  stars  have  any  influence  upon  mortals,  as 
it  was  formerly  supposed  ? ' 

'  Most  assuredly  they  have,'  rejoined  Melchior.  '  I  cannot 
read  them,  but  I  firmly  believe  in  them.' 

I  made  the  above  remark,  as  I  had  often  thought  that  such 
was  Melchior's  idea. 

'Yes,'  continued  he,  'every  man  has  his  destiny — such 
must  be  the  case.  It  is  known  beforehand  what  is  to  happen 
to  us  by  an  Omniscient  Being,  and  being  known,  what  is  it 
but  destiny  which  cannot  be  changed?  It  \sfatej  continued 
he,  surveying  the  stars  with  his  hand  raised  up,  'and  that 
fate  is  as  surely  written  there  as  the  sun  shines  upon  us  ;  but 
the  great  book  is  sealed,  because  it  would  not  add  to  our 
happiness.' 

'  If,  then,  all  is  destiny,  or  fate,  what  inducement  is  there 
to  do  well  or  ill?5  replied  I.  'We  may  commit  all  acts  of 
evil,  and  say,  that  as  it  was  predestined,  we  could  not  help  it. 
Besides,  would  it  be  just  that  the  Omniscient  Being  should 
punish  us  for  those  crimes  which  we  cannot  prevent,  and 
which  are  allotted  to  us  by  destiny  ? ' 

'  Japhet,  you  argue  well ;  but  you  are  in  error,  because, 
like  most  of  those  of  the  Christian  church,  you  understand  not 
the  sacred  writings,  nor  did  I  until  I  knew  my  wife.  Her 
creed  is,  I  believe,  correct ;  and  what  is  more,  adds  weight  to 
the  truths  of  the  Bible.' 

'  I  thought  that  gipsies  had  no  religion.' 

'You  are  not  the  only  one  who  supposes  so.  It  is  true 
that  the  majority  of  the  tribe  are  held  by  the  higher  castes  as 

76 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

serfs,  and  are  not  instructed ;  but  with — if  I  may  use  the 
expression — the  aristocracy  of  them  it  is  very  different,  and 
their  creed  I  have  adopted.' 

'  I  should  wish  to  hear  their  creed,'  replied  I. 

'  Hear  it  then.  Original  sin  commenced  in  heaven — when 
the  angels  rebelled  against  their  God — not  on  earth.' 

1 1  will  grant  that  sin  originated  first  in  heaven.' 

1  Do  you  think  that  a  great,  a  good  God,  ever  created  any 
being  for  its  destruction  and  eternal  misery,  much  less  an 
angel  ?  Did  he  not  foresee  their  rebellion  ?' 

<  I  grant  it.' 

'  This  world  was  not  peopled  with  the  image  of  God  until 
after  the  fall  of  the  angels :  it  had  its  living  beings,  its 
monsters  perhaps,  but  not  a  race  of  men  with  eternal  souls. 
But  it  was  peopled,  as  we  see  it  now  is,  to  enable  the  legions 
of  angels  who  fell  to  return  to  their  former  happy  state — as  a 
pilgrimage  by  which  they  might  obtain  their  pardons,  and 
resume  their  seats  in  heaven.  Not  a  child  is  born,  but  the 
soul  of  some  fallen  cherub  enters  into  the  body  to  work  out 
its  salvation.  Many  do,  many  do  not,  and  then  they  have 
their  task  to  recommence  anew  ;  for  the  spirit  once  created  is 
immortal,  and  cannot  be  destroyed  ;  and  the  Almighty  is  all 
goodness,  and  would  ever  pardon.' 

'  Then  you  suppose  there  is  no  such  thing  as  eternal 
punishment  ? ' 

'Eternal! — no.  Punishment  there  is,  but  not  eternal. 
When  the  legions  of  angels  fell,  some  were  not  so  perverse  as 
others :  they  soon  re-obtained  their  seats,  even  when,  as 
children,  having  passed  through  the  slight  ordeal,  they  have 
been  summoned  back  to  heaven  ;  but  others  who,  from  their 
infancy,  show  how  bad  were  their  natures,  have  many  pilgrim- 
ages to  perform  before  they  can  be  purified.  This  is,  in  itself, 
a  punishment.  What  other  punishment  they  incur  between 
their  pilgrimages  we  know  not ;  but  this  is  certain,  that  no 
one  was  created  to  be  punished  eternally.' 

*  But  all  this  is  but  assertion,'  replied  I  ;  '  where  are  your 
proofs  ? ' 

'  In  the  Bible  ;  some  day  or  other  I  will  show  them  to  you  ; 
but  now  we  are  at  the  camp,  and  I  am  anxious  to  embrace 
Nattee.' 

I  thought  for  some  time  upon  this  singular  creed ;  one,  in 

77 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

itself,  not  militating  against  religion,  but  at  the  same  time  I 
could  not  call  to  mind  any  passages  by  which  it  could  be 
supported.  Still  the  idea  was  beautiful,  and  I  dwelt  upon  it 
with  pleasure.  I  have  before  observed,  and  indeed  the  reader 
must  have  gathered  from  my  narrative,  that  Melchior  was  no 
common  personage.  Every  day  did  I  become  more  partial  to 
him,  and  more  pleased  with  our  erratic  life.  What  scruples  I 
had  at  first,  gradually  wore  away ;  the  time  passed  quickly, 
and  although  I  would  occasionally  call  to  mind  the  original 
object  of  my  setting  forth,  I  would  satisfy  myself  by  the  reflec- 
tion, that  there  was  yet  sufficient  time.  Little  Fleta  was  now 
my  constant  companion  when  in  the  camp,  and  I  amused 
myself  with  teaching  her  to  write  and  read. 

'  Japhet,'  said  Timothy  to  me  one  day  as  we  were  cutting 
hazel  broach  wood  in  the  forest,  *  I  don't  see  that  you  get  on 
very  fast  in  your  search  after  your  father.' 

'  No,  Tim,  I  do  not ;  but  I  am  gaining  a  knowledge  of  the 
world  which  will  be  very  useful  to  me  when  I  recommence  the 
search  ;  and  what  is  more,  I  am  saving  a  great  deal  of  money 
to  enable  me  to  prosecute  it.' 

'  What  did  Melchior  give  you  after  we  left  ? ' 

'Twenty  guineas,  which,  with  what  I  had  before,  make 
more  than  fifty.' 

'  And  he  gave  me  ten,  which  makes  twenty,  with  what  I 
had  before.  Seventy  pounds  is  a  large  sum.' 

*  Yes,  but  soon  spent,  Tim.     We  must  work  a  little  longer. 
Besides,  I  cannot  leave  that  little  girl — she  was  never  intended 
for  a  rope-dancer.' 

*  I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,  Japhet,  for  I  feel  as  you 
do — she  shall  share  our  fortunes.' 

*  A  glorious  prospect  truly,'  replied  I,  laughing  ;  '  but  never 
mind,  it  would  be  better  than  her  remaining  here.      But  how 
are  we  to  manage  that  ? ' 

'  Ay  !  that's  the  rub  ;  but  there  is  time  enough  to  think 
about  it  when  we  intend  to  quit  our  present  occupation.' 

4  Well,  I  understand  from  Melchior  that  we  are  to  start  in 
a  few  days  ? ' 

1  What  is  it  to  be,  Japhet  ? ' 

'  Oh  !  we  shall  be  at  home — we  are  to  cure  all  diseases 
under  the  sun.  To-morrow  we  commence  making  pills,  so  we 
may  think  ourselves  with  Mr.  Cophagus  again.' 

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JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Well,  I  do  think  we  shall  have  some  fun  ;  but  I  hope 
Melchior  won't  make  me  take  my  own  pills  to  prove  their 
good  qualities — that  will  be  no  joke.' 

'  Oh  no,  Num  is  kept  on  purpose  for  that.  What  else  is  the 
fool  good  for  ? ' 

The  next  week  was  employed  as  we  anticipated.  Boxes  of 
pills  of  every  size,  neatly  labelled,  bottles  of  various  mixtures, 
chiefly  stimulants,  were  corked  and  packed  up.  Powders  of 
anything  were  put  in  papers  ;  but,  at  all  events,  there  was 
nothing  hurtful  in  them.  All  was  ready,  and  accompanied  by 
Num  (Jumbo  and  Fleta  being  left  at  home)  we  set  off, 
Melchior  assuming  the  dress  in  which  we  had  first  met  him  in 
the  waggon,  and  altering  his  appearance  so  completely,  that 
he  would  have  been  taken  for  at  least  sixty  years  old.  We 
now  travelled  on  foot  with  our  dresses  in  bundles,  each  carrying 
his  own,  except  Num,  who  was  loaded  like  a  pack-horse,  and 
made  sore  lamentations  :  *  Can't  you  carry  some  of  this  ? ' 

'  No,'  replied  I,  '  it  is  your  own  luggage  ;  every  one  must 
carry  his  own.' 

'Well,  I  never  felt  my  spangled  dress  so  heavy  before. 
Where  are  we  going  ? ' 

'  Only  a  little  way,'  replied  Timothy,  *  and  then  you  will 
have  nothing  more  to  do.' 

'  I  don't  know  that.  When  master  puts  on  that  dress,  I 
have  to  swallow  little  things  till  I'm  sick.' 

'  It's  all  good  for  your  health,  Num.' 

'I'm  very  well,  I  thank' e,'  replied  the  poor  fellow;  'but 
I'm  very  hot  and  very  tired.' 


CHAPTER   XV 

In  which  Timothy  makes  a  grand  speech,  quite  as  true  as  those  delivered 
from  the  hustings  —  Melchior,  like  the  candidate,  states  his  pre- 
tensions for  public  favour,  and  the  public,  as  usual,  swallow  the 
bait. 

FORTUNATELY  for  poor  Num,  we  were  not  far  from  the 
market  town  at  which  we  intended  to  open  our  campaign, 
which  we  did  the  next  morning  by  Num  and  Timothy  sallying 

79 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

forth,  the  former  with  a  large  trumpet  in  his  hand,  and  the 
latter  riding  on  a  donkey.  On  their  arrival  at  the  market-place, 
Num  commenced  blowing  it  with  all  his  might,  while  Timothy, 
in  his  spangled  dress,  as  soon  as  they  had  collected  a  crowd, 
stood  upon  his  saddle,  and  harangued  the  people  as  follows  : — 
4  Gentlemen  and  ladies  —  I  have  the  honour  to  announce 
to  you  the  arrival  in  this  town  of  the  celebrated  Doctor 
Appallacheosmocommetico,  who  has  travelled  farther  than  the 


1  Stood  upon  his  saddle  and  harangued  the  People? 
Copyright  1894  by  Macmillan  &•  Co. 

sun  and  faster  than  a  comet.  He  hath  visited  every  part  of 
the  globe.  He  has  smoked  the  calumet  with  the  Indians  of 
North  America — he  has  hunted  with  the  Araucas  in  the  South 
— galloped  on  wild  horses  over  the  plains  of  Mexico,  and 
rubbed  noses  with  the  Esquimaux.  He  hath  used  the  chop- 
sticks with  the  Chinese,  swung  the  Cherok  pooga  with  the 
Hindoos,  and  put  a  new  nose  on  the  Great  Cham  of  Tartary. 
He  hath  visited  and  been  received  in  every  court  of  Europe : 
danced  on  the  ice  of  the  Neva  with  the  Russians — led  the 

80 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

mazurka  with  the  Poles — waltzed  with  the  Germans — taran- 
tulaed  with  the  Italians — fandangoed  with  the  Spanish — and 
quadrilled  with  the  French.  He  hath  explored  every  mine  in 
the  universe,  walked  through  every  town  on  the  Continent, 
examined  every  mountain  in  the  world,  ascended  Mont  Blanc, 
walked  down  the  Andes,  and  run  up  the  Pyrenees.  He  has 
been  into  every  volcano  in  the  globe,  and  descending  by 
Vesuvius  has  been  thrown  up  by  Stromboli.  He  has  lived 
more  than  a  thousand  years,  and  is  still  in  the  flower  of  his 
youth.  He  has  had  one  hundred  and  forty  sets  of  teeth  one 
after  another,  and  expects  a  new  set  next  Christmas.  His 
whole  life  has  been  spent  in  the  service  of  mankind,  and  in 
doing  good  to  his  fellow-creatures  ;  and  having  the  experience 
of  more  than  a  thousand  years,  he  cures  more  than  a  thousand 
diseases.  Gentlemen,  the  wonderful  doctor  will  present  him- 
self before  you  this  evening,  and  will  then  tell  you  what  his 
remedies  are  good  for,  so  that  you  may  pick  and  choose 
according  to  your  several  complaints.  Ladies,  the  wonderful 
doctor  can  greatly  assist  you  :  he  has  secrets  by  which  you 
may  have  a  family  if  you  should  so  wish — philters  to  make 
husbands  constant,  and  salve  to  make  them  blind — cosmetics 
to  remove  pimples  and  restore  to  youth  and  beauty,  and 
powders  to  keep  children  from  squalling.  Sound  the  trumpet, 
Philotas ;  sound,  and  let  everybody  know  that  the  wonderful 
Doctor  Appallacheosmocommetico  has  vouchsafed  to  stop 
here  and  confer  his  blessings  upon  the  inhabitants  of  this 
town.'  Hereupon  Num  again  blew  the  trumpet  till  he  was 
black  in  the  face  ;  and  Timothy,  dropping  on  his  donkey,  rode 
away  to  other  parts  of  the  town,  where  he  repeated  his  grandi- 
loquent announcement,  followed,  as  may  be  supposed,  by  a 
numerous  cortege  of  little  ragged  boys. 

About  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  Melchior  made  his 
appearance  in  the  market-place,  attended  by  me,  dressed  as  a 
German  student,  Timothy  and  Num  in  their  costumes.  A 
stage  had  been  already  prepared,  and  the  populace  had 
crowded  round  it  more  with  the  intention  of  laughing  than  of 
making  purchases.  The  various  packets  were  opened  and 
arranged  in  front  of  the  platform,  I  standing  on  one  side  of 
Melchior,  Timothy  on  the  other,  and  Num  with  his  trumpet, 
holding  on  by  one  of  the  scaffold  poles  at  the  corner. 

'  Sound  the  trumpet,  Philotas,'  said  Melchior,  taking  off  his 
G  81 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

three-cornered  hat,  and  making  a  low  bow  to  the  audience,  at 
every  blast.  « Pray,  Mr.  Fool,  do  you  know  why  you  sound 
the  trumpet  ? ' 

*  I  am  sure  I  don't  know,'  replied  Num,  opening  his  goggle 
eyes. 

1  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Dionysius  ? ' 

'  Yes,  sir,  I  can  guess.' 

'Explain,  then,  to  the  gentlemen  and  ladies  who  have 
honoured  us  with  their  presence.' 

'  Because,  sir,  trumpets  are  always  sounded  before  great 
conquerors.' 

*  Very  true,  sir  ;  but  how  am  I  a  great  conqueror  ? ' 

*  You  have   conquered    death,    sir ;   and  he's   a   very  rum 
customer  to  have  to  deal  with.' 

*  Dionysius,  you  have  answered  well,  and  shall  have  some 
bullock's  liver  for  your  supper — don't  forget  to  remind  me,  in 
case  I  forget  it.' 

1  No,  that  I  won't,  sir,'  replied  Timothy,  rubbing  his 
stomach,  as  if  delighted  with  the  idea. 

c  Ladies  and  gentlemen,'  said  Melchior  to  the  audience, 
who  were  on  the  broad  grin,  '  I  see  your  mouths  are  all  open, 
and  are  waiting  for  the  pills;  but  be  not  too  impatient — I 
cannot  part  with  my  medicines  unless  you  have  diseases 
which  require  their  aid ;  and  I  should,  indeed,  be  a  sorry 
doctor,  if  I  prescribed  without  knowing  your  complaints.  "  Est 
neutrale  genus  signans  rent  non  animatam?  says  Herodotus, 
which  in  English  means,  what  is  one  man's  meat  is  another 
man's  poison  ;  and  further,  he  adds,  "  Ut  jecur,  ut  onus,  put  ut 
occiput"  which  is  as  much  as  to  say,  that  what  agrees  with  one 
temperament  will  be  injurious  to  another.  Caution,  therefore, 
becomes  very  necessary  in  the  use  of  medicine ;  and  my 
reputation  depends  upon  my  not  permitting  any  one  to  take 
what  is  not  good  for  him.  And  now,  my  very  dear  friends,  I 
will  first  beg  you  to  observe  the  peculiar  qualities  of  the 
contents  of  this  little  phial.  You  observe,  that  there  is  not 
more  than  sixty  drops  in  it,  yet  will  these  sixty  drops  add  ten 
years  to  a  man's  life — for  it  will  cure  him  of  almost  as  many 
diseases.  In  the  first  place,  are  any  of  you  troubled  with  the 
astites,  or  dropsy,  which,  as  the  celebrated  Galen  hath  declared, 
may  be  divided  into  three  parts,  the  ascites^  the  anasarca,  and 
the  tympanites.  The  diagnostics  of  this  disease  are,  swelling 

82 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

of  the  abdomen  or  stomach,  difficulty  of  breathing,  want  of 
appetite,  and  a  teazing  cough.  I  say,  have  any  of  you  this 
disease  ?  None.  Then  I  thank  Heaven  that  you  are  not  so 
afflicted. 

'  The  next  disease  it  is  good  for,  is  the  peripneumonia,  or 
inflammation  on  the  lungs — the  diagnostics  or  symptoms  of 
which  are,  a  small  pulse,  swelling  of  the  eyes,  and  redness  of 
the  face.  Say,  have  any  of  you  these  symptoms — if  so,  you 
have  the  disease.  No  one.  I  thank  Heaven  that  you  are 
none  of  you  so  afflicted. 

'  It  is  also  a  sovereign  remedy  for  the  diarrhoea,  the 
diagnostics  of  which  are,  faintness,  frequent  gripings,  rumbling 
in  the  bowels,  cold  sweats,  and  spasm.' 

Here  one  man  came  forward  and  complained  of  frequent 
gripings — another  of  rumbling  in  the  bowels,  and  two  or  three 
more  of  cold  sweats. 

*  It  is  well.  Oh  I  thank  Heaven  that  I  am  here  to  ad- 
minister to  you  myself !  for  what  says  Hippocrates?  " Relativum 
cum  antecedents  concordat"  which  means,  that  remedies  quickly 
applied,  kill  the  disease  in  its  birth.  Here,  my  friends,  take  it 
— take  it — pay  me  only  one  shilling,  and  be  thankful.  When 
you  go  to  rest,  fail  not  to  offer  up  your  prayers.  It  is  also  a 
sovereign  remedy  for  the  dreadful  chiragra  or  gout.  I  cured 
the  whole  corporation  of  city  aldermen  last  week,  by  their 
taking  three  bottles  each,  and  they  presented  me  with  the 
freedom  of  the  city  of  London,  in  a  gold  box,  which  I  am 
sorry  that  I  have  forgotten  to  bring  with  me.  Now  the 
chiragra  may  be  divided  into  several  varieties.  Gonagra, 
when  it  attacks  the  knees — chiragra,  if  in  the  hands — onagra, 
if  in  the  elbow — omagra,  if  in  the  shoulder,  and  lumbago,  if 
in  the  back.  All  these  are  varieties  of  gout,  and  for  all  these 
the  contents  of  this  little  bottle  is  a  sovereign  remedy ;  and, 
observe,  it  will  keep  for  ever.  Twenty  years  hence,  when 
afflicted  in  your  old  age — and  the  time  will  come,  my  good 
people — you  may  take  down  this  little  phial  from  the  shelf, 
and  bless  the  hour  in  which  you  spent  your  shilling ;  for,  as 
Eusebius  declares,  "  Verbum  personale  concordat  cum  nomi- 
nativo"  which  is  as  much  as  to  say,  the  active  will  grow  old, 
and  suffer  from  pains  in  their  limbs.  Who,  then,  has  pains 
in  his  limbs,  or  lumbago  ?  Who,  indeed,  can  say  that  he 
will  not  have  them  ? 

83 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

After  this  appeal,  the  number  of  those  who  had  pains  in 
their  limbs,  or  who  wished  to  provide  against  such  a  disease, 
proved  so  great,  that  all  our  phials  were  disposed  of,  and  the 
doctor  was  obliged  to  promise  that  in  a  few  days  he  would 
have  some  more  of  this  invaluable  medicine  ready. 

'Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  shall  now  offer  to  your  notice 
a  valuable  plaster,  the  effects  of  which  are  miraculous.  Diony- 
sius,  come  hither,  you  have  felt  the  benefit  of  this  plaster  ; 
tell  your  case  to  those  who  are  present,  and  mind  you  tell  the 
truth.' 

Hereupon  Timothy  stepped  forward.  '  Ladies  and  gentle- 
men, upon  my  honour,  about  three  weeks  back  I  fell  off  the 
scaffold,  broke  my  back-bone  into  three  pieces,  and  was  carried 
off  to  a  surgeon,  who  looked  at  me,  and  told  the  people  to  take 
measure  for  my  coffin.  The  great  doctor  was  not  there  at  the 
time,  having  been  sent  for  to  consult  with  the  king's  physicians 
upon  the  queen's  case,  of  Cophagus,  or  intermitting  mortifica- 
tion of  the  great  toe  ;  but  fortunately,  just  as  they  were  putting 
me  into  a  shell,  my  master  came  back,  and  immediately 
applying  his  sovereign  plaster  to  my  back,  in  five  days  I  was 
able  to  sit  up,  and  in  ten  days  I  returned  to  my  duty.' 

'  Are  you  quite  well  now,  Dionysius  ? ' 

'  Quite  well,  sir,  and  my  back  is  like  whalebone.' 

« Try  it.3 

Hereupon  Dionysius  threw  two  somersets  forward,  two 
backward,  walked  across  the  stage  on  his  hands,  and  tumbled 
in  every  direction. 

'  You  see,  gentlemen,  I'm  quite  well  now,  and  what  I  have 
said,  I  assure  you,  on  my  honour,  to  be  a  fact.' 

'  I  hope  you'll  allow  that  to  be  a  very  pretty  cure,'  said  the 
doctor,  appealing  to  the  audience ;  '  and  I  hardly  need  say, 
that  for  sprains,  bruises,  contusions,  wrenches,  and  dislocations, 
this  plaster  is  infallible ;  and  I  will  surprise  you  more  by  telling 
you,  that  I  can  sell  it  for  eight-pence  a  sheet.' 

The  plaster  went  off  rapidly,  and  was  soon  expended.  The 
doctor  went  on  describing  his  other  valuable  articles,  and  when 
he  came  to  his  cosmetics,  etc.,  for  women,  we  could  not  hand 
them  out  fast  enough.  '  And  now,'  said  the  doctor,  '  I  must 
bid  you  farewell  for  this  evening.' 

'  I'm  glad  of  that,'  said  Timothy,  *  for  now  I  mean  to  sell 
my  own  medicine.' 

84 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  Your  medicine,  Mr.  Dionysius !    what  do  you  mean  by 
that?' 

1  Mean,  sir ;  I  mean  to  say  that   I've  got  a  powder  of  my 
own  contriving,  which  is  a  sovereign  remedy.' 
1  Remedy,  sir,  for  what  ? ' 

*  Why,  it's  a  powder  to  kill  fleas,  and  what's  more,  it's  just 
as  infallible  as  your  own.' 

'  Have  you,  indeed  ;  and  pray,  sir,  how  did  you  hit  upon 
the  invention  ? ' 

*  Sir,  I  discovered  it  in  my  sleep  by  accident ;  but  I  have 
proved  it,  and  I  will  say,  if  properly  administered,  it  is  quite 
as  infallible  as  any  of  yours.      Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  pledge 
you  my  honour  that  it  will  have  the  effect  desired,  and  all  I 
ask  is  sixpence  a  powder.' 

'  But  how  is  it  to  be  used,  sir  ? ' 

'  Used — why,  like  all  other  powders  ;  but  I  won't  give  the 
directions  till  I  have  sold  some  ;  promising,  however,  if  my 
method  does  not  succeed,  to  return  the  money.' 

'  Well,  that  is  fair,  Mr.  Dionysius  ;  and  I  will  take  care 
that  you  keep  your  bargain.  Will  anybody  purchase  the 
fool's  powder  for  killing  fleas.' 

'Yes,  I  will,'  replied  a  man  on  the  broad  grin,  'here's 
sixpence.  Now,  then,  fool,  how  am  I  to  use  it  ? ' 

'  Use  it,'  said  Timothy,  putting  the  sixpence  in  his  pocket ; 
'  I'll  explain  to  you.  You  must  first  catch  the  flea,  hold  him 
so  tight  between  the  forefinger  and  thumb  as  to  force  him  to 
open  his  mouth  ;  when  his  mouth  is  open  you  must  put  a  very 
little  of  this  powder  into  it,  and  it  will  kill  him  directly.' 

'  Why,  when  I  have  the  flea  as  tight  as  you  state,  I  may  as 
well  kill  him  myself.' 

'  Very  true,  so  you  may,  if  you  prefer  it ;  but  if  you  do  not, 
you  may  use  this  powder,  which  upon  my  honour  is  infallible.' 

This  occasioned  a  great  deal  of  mirth  among  the  bystanders. 
Timothy  kept  his  sixpence,  and  our  exhibition  for  this  day 
ended,  very  much  to  the  satisfaction  of  Melchior,  who  declared 
he  had  taken  more  than  ever  he  had  done  before  in  a  whole 
week.  Indeed,  the  whole  sum  amounted  to  £17  :  ios.,  all  taken 
in  shillings  and  sixpences,  for  articles  hardly  worth  the  odd 
shillings  in  the  account ;  so  we  sat  down  to  supper  with  antici- 
pations of  a  good  harvest,  and  so  it  proved.  We  stayed  four 
days  at  this  town,  and  then  proceeded  onwards,  when  the  like 

8s 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

success  attended  us,  Timothy  and  I  being  obliged  to  sit  up 
nearly  the  whole  night  to  label  and  roll  up  pills,  and  mix 
medicines,  which  we  did  in  a  very  scientific  manner.  Nor 
was  it  always  that  Melchior  presided ;  he  would  very  often 
tell  his  audience  that  business  required  his  attendance  else- 
where, to  visit  the  sick,  and  that  he  left  the  explanation  of  his 
medicines  and  their  properties  to  his  pupil,  who  was  far 
advanced  in  knowledge.  With  my  prepossessing  appearance, 
I  made  a  great  effect,  more  especially  among  the  ladies,  and 
Timothy  exerted  himself  so  much  when  with  me,  that  we  never 
failed  to  bring  home  to  Melchior  a  great  addition  to  his 
earnings — so  much  so,  that  at  last  he  only  showed  himself, 
pretended  that  he  was  so  importuned  to  visit  sick  persons,  that 
he  could  stay  no  longer,  and  then  leave  us,  after  the  first  half 
hour,  to  carry  on  the  business  for  him.  After  six  weeks  of 
uninterrupted  success,  we  returned  to  the  camp,  which,  as 
usual,  was  not  very  very  far  off. 


CHAPTER   XVI 

Important  news,  but  not  communicated — A  dissolution  of  partnership 
takes  place. 

MELCHIOR'S  profits  had  been  much  more  than  he  anticipated, 
and  he  was  very  liberal  to  Timothy  and  myself;  indeed,  he 
looked  upon  me  as  his  right  hand,  and  became  more  intimate 
and  attached  every  day.  We  were,  of  course,  delighted  to 
return  to  the  camp,  after  our  excursion.  There  was  so  much 
continued  bustle  and  excitement  in  our  peculiar  profession, 
that  a  little  quiet  was  delightful ;  and  I  never  felt  more  happy 
than  when  Fleta  threw  herself  into  my  arms,  and  Nattee  came 
forward  with  her  usual  dignity  and  grace,  but  with  more  than 
usual  condescendence  and  kindness,  bidding  me  welcome  home. 
Home — alas!  it  was  never  meant  for  my  home,  or  poor  Fleta's 
— and  that  I  felt.  It  was  our  sojourn  for  a  time,  and  no 
more. 

We  had  been  more  than  a  year  exercising  our  talents  in 
this  lucrative  manner,  when  one  day,  as  I  was  sitting  at  the 
entrance  to  the  tent,  with  a  book  in  my  hand,  out  of  which 

86 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Fleta  was  reading  to  me,  a  gipsy  not  belonging  to  our  gang 
made  his  appearance.  He  was  covered  with  dust,  and  the 
dew-drops,  hanging  on  his  dark  forehead,  proved  that  he  had 
travelled  fast.  He  addressed  Nattee,  who  was  standing  by, 
in  their  own  language,  which  I  did  not  understand ;  but  I 
perceived  that  he  asked  for  Melchior.  After  an  exchange  of  a 
few  sentences,  Nattee  expressed  astonishment  and  alarm,  put 
her  hands  over  her  face,  and  removed  them  as  quickly,  as  if 
derogatory  in  her  to  show  emotion,  and  then  remained  in  deep 
thought.  Perceiving  Melchior  approaching,  the  gipsy  hastened 
to  him,  and  they  were  soon  in  animated  conversation.  In  ten 
minutes  it  was  over:  the  gipsy  went  to  the  running  brook, 
washed  his  face,  took  a  large  draught  of  water,  and  then 
hastened  away  and  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

Melchior,  who  had  watched  the  departure  of  the  gipsy, 
slowly  approached  us.  I  observed  him  and  Nattee  as  they 
met,  as  I  was  certain  that  something  important  had  taken 
place.  Melchior  fixed  his  eyes  upon  Natte'e — she  looked  at 
him  mournfully — folded  her  arms,  and  made  a  slight  bow  as  if 
in  submission,  and  in  a  low  voice  quoted  from  the  Scriptures, 
*  Whither  thou  goest,  I  will  go — thy  people  shall  be  my  people, 
and  thy  God  my  God.'  He  then  walked  away  with  her  :  they 
sat  down  apart,  and  were  in  earnest  conversation  for  more  than 
an  hour. 

'Japhet,'  said  Melchior  to  me,  after  he  had  quitted  his 
wife,  '  what  I  am  about  to  tell  you  will  surprise  you.  I  have 
trusted  you  with  all  I  dare  trust  any  one,  but  there  are  some 
secrets  in  every  man's  life  which  had  better  be  reserved  for 
himself  and  her  who  is  bound  to  him  by  solemn  ties.  We 
must  now  part.  In  a  few  days  this  camp  will  be  broken  up, 
and  these  people  will  join  some  other  division  of  the  tribe. 
For  me,  you  will  see  me  no  more.  Ask  me  not  to  explain,  for 
I  cannot.' 

'And  Natte'e,'  said  I. 

'  Will  follow  my  fortunes,  whatever  they  may  be — you  will 
see  her  no  more.' 

'  For  myself  I  care  not,  Melchior ;  the  world  is  before  me, 
and  remain  with  the  gipsies  without  you  I  will  not :  but 
answer  me  one  question — what  is  to  become  of  little  Fleta  ? 
Is  she  to  remain  with  the  tribe,  to  which  she  does  not  belong, 
or  does  she  go  with  you  ? ' 

8? 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Melchior  hesitated.  '  I  hardly  can  answer ;  but  what 
consequence  can  the  welfare  of  a  soldier's  brat  be  to  you  ? ' 

'Allowing  her  to  be  what  you  assert,  Melchior,  I  am 
devotedly  attached  to  that  child,  and  could  not  bear  that  she 
should  remain  here.  I  am  sure  that  you  deceived  me  in  what 
you  stated ;  for  the  child  remembers,  and  has  told  me, 
anecdotes  of  her  infancy,  which  proves  that  she  is  of  no  mean 
family,  and  that  she  has  been  stolen  from  her  friends.' 

*  Indeed,  is  her  memory  so  good  ? '  replied  Melchior,  firmly 
closing  his  teeth.  '  To  Nattee  or  to  me  she  has  never  hinted 
so  much.' 

1  That  is  very  probable  ;  but  a  stolen  child  she  is,  Melchior, 
and  she  must  not  remain  here.' 

«  Must  not ! ' 

'  Yes  ;  must  not,  Melchior :  when  you  quit  the  tribe,  you 
will  no  longer  have  any  power,  nor  can  you  have  any  interest 
about  her.  She  shall  then  choose — if  she  will  come  with  me, 
I  'will  take  her,  and  nothing  shall  prevent  me ;  and  in  so 
doing  I  do  you  no  injustice,  nor  do  I  swerve  in  my  fidelity.' 

'How  do  you  know  that  ?  I  may  have  my  secret  reasons 
against  it.' 

'  Surely  you  can  have  no  interest  in  a  soldier's  brat, 
Melchior?' 

Melchior  appeared  confused  and  annoyed.  '  She  is  no 
soldier's  brat :  I  acknowledge,  Japhet,  that  the  child  was 
stolen  ;  but  you  must  not,  therefore,  imply  that  the  child  was 
stolen  by  me  or  by  my  wife.' 

'  I  never  accused  you,  or  thought  you  capable  of  it ;  and 
that  is  the  reason  why  I  am  now  surprised  at  the  interest  you 
take  in  her.  If  she  prefers  to  go  with  you,  I  have  no  more  to 
say,  but  if  not,  I  claim  her ;  and  if  she  consents,  will  resist 
your  interference.' 

'Japhet,'  replied  Melchior  after  a  pause,  'we  must  not 
quarrel  now  that  we  are  about  to  part.  I  will  give  you  an 
answer  in  half  an  hour.' 

Melchior  returned  to  Nattee,  and  recommenced  a  conversa- 
tion with  her,  while  I  hastened  to  Fleta. 

'  Fleta,  do  you  know  that  the  camp  is  to  be  broken  up,  and 
Melchior  and  Nattee  leave  it  together  ? ' 

'  Indeed  ! '  replied  she  with  surprise.  '  Then  what  is  to 
become  of  you  and  Timothy  ? ' 

88 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  We  must  of  course  seek  our  fortunes  where  we  can.' 

*  And  of  me  ? '  continued  she,  looking  me  earnestly  in  the 
face  with  her  large  blue  eyes.      '  Am  I  to  stay  here  ? '  continued 
she — with  alarm  in  her  countenance. 

'  Not  if  you  do  not  wish  it,  Fleta  :  as  long  as  I  can  support 
you,  I  will — that  is,  if  you  would  like  to  live  with  me  in 
preference  to  Melchior.' 

'  If  I  would  like,  Japhet !  you  must  know  I  would  like, — 
who  has  been  so  kind  to  me  as  you  ?  Don't  leave  me,  Japhet.' 

'  I  will  not,  Fleta ;  but  on  condition  that  you  promise  to  be 
guided  by  me,  and  to  do  all  I  wish.' 

*  To  do  what  you  wish  is  the  greatest  pleasure  that  I  have, 
Japhet — so  I  may  safely  promise  that.     What  has  happened  ? ' 

'That  I  do  not  know  more  than  yourself;  but  Melchior 
tells  me  that  he  and  Nattee  quit  the  gipsy  tents  for  ever.' 

Fleta  looked  round  to  ascertain  if  any  one  was  near  us, 
and  then  in  a  low  tone  said,  '  I  understand  their  language, 
Japhet,  that  is,  a  great  deal  of  it,  although  they  do  not  think 
so,  and  I  overheard  what  the  gipsy  said  in  part,  although  he 
was  at  some  distance.  He  asked  for  Melchior ;  and  when 
Natte'e  wanted  to  know  what  he  wanted,  he  answered  that  *  he 
was  dead ' ;  then  Nattee  covered  up  her  face.  I  could  not 
hear  all  the  rest,  but  there  was  something  about  a  horse} 

He  was  dead.  Had  then  Melchior  committed  murder,  and 
was  obliged  to  fly  the  country  ?  This  appeared  to  me  to  be 
the  most  probable,  when  I  collected  the  facts  in  my  possession  ; 
and  yet  I  could  not  believe  it :  for  except  that  system  of  deceit 
necessary  to  carry  on  his  various  professions,  I  never  found  any- 
thing in  Melchior's  conduct  which  could  be  considered  as  criminal. 
On  the  contrary,  he  was  kind,  generous,  and  upright  in  his 
private  dealings,  and  in  many  points  proved  that  he  had  a  good 
heart.  He  was  a  riddle  of  inconsistency,  it  was  certain ; 
professionally  he  would  cheat  anybody,  and  disregard  all  truth 
and  honesty ;  but  in  his  private  character  he  was  scrupulously 
honest,  and  with  the  exception  of  the  assertion  relative  to 
Fleta' s  birth  and  parentage,  he  had  never  told  me  a  lie,  that  I 
could  discover.  I  was  summing  up  all  these  reflections  in  my 
mind,  when  Melchior  again  came  up  to  me,  and  desiring  the 
little  girl  to  go  away,  he  said,  *  Japhet,  I  have  resolved  to  grant 
your  request  with  respect  to  Fleta,  but  it  must  be  on  conditions.' 

4  Let  me  hear  them,' 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  First,  then,  Japhet,  as  you  always  have  been  honest  and 
confiding  with  me,  tell  me  now  what  are  your  intentions.  Do 
you  mean  to  follow  up  the  profession  which  you  learnt  under 
me,  or  what  do  you  intend  to  do  ? ' 

'  Honestly,  then,  Melchior,  I  do  not  intend  to  follow  up 
that  profession,  unless  driven  to  it  by  necessity.  I  intend  to 
seek  my  father.3 

'  And  if  driven  to  it  by  necessity,  do  you  intend  that  Fleta 
shall  aid  you  by  her  acquirements  ?  In  short,  do  you  mean 
to  take  her  with  you  as  a  speculation,  to  make  the  most  of 
her,  to  let  her  sink,  when  she  arrives  at  the  age  of  woman, 
into  vice  and  misery  ? ' 

'  I  wonder  at  your  asking  me  that  question,  Melchior ;  it  is 
the  first  act  of  injustice  I  have  received  at  your  hands.  No  ; 
if  obliged  to  follow  up  the  profession,  I  will  not  allow  Fleta  so 
to  do.  I  would  sooner  that  she  were  in  her  grave.  It  is  to 
rescue  her  from  that  very  vice  and  misery,  to  take  her  out  of 
a  society  in  which  she  never  ought  to  have  been  placed,  that 
I  take  her  with  me.3 

*  And  this  upon  your  honour  ? 3 

'Yes,  upon  my  honour.  I  love  her  as  my  sister,  and 
cannot  help  indulging  in  the  hope  that  in  seeking  my  father  I 
may  chance  to  stumble  upon  hers.3 

Melchior  bit  his  lips.  'There  is  another  promise  I  must 
exact  from  you,  Japhet,  which  is,  that  to  a  direction  which  I 
will  give  you,  every  six  months  you  will  enclose  an  address 
where  you  may  be  heard  of,  and  also  intelligence  as  to  Fleta3 s 
welfare  and  health.3 

'  To  that  I  give  my  cheerful  promise ;  but  Melchior,  you 
appear  to  have  taken,  all  at  once,  a  strange  interest  in  this 
little  girl.' 

'  I  wish  you  now  to  think  that  I  do  take  an  interest  in  her, 
provided  you  seek  not  to  inquire  the  why  and  the  wherefore. 
Will  you  accept  of  funds  for  her  maintenance  ? 3 

'  Not  without  necessity  compels  me  ;  and  then  I  should  be 
glad  to  find,  when  I  can  no  longer  help  her,  that  you  are  still 
her  friend.3 

'  Recollect,  that  you  will  always  find  what  is  requisite  by 
writing  to  the  address  which  I  shall  give  you  before  we  part. 
That  point  is  now  settled,  and  on  the  whole  I  think  the 
arrangement  is  good.' 

90 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Timothy  had  been  absent  during  the  events  of  the  morning 
— when  he  returned,  I  communicated  to  him  what  had  passed, 
and  was  about  to  take  place. 

'  Well,  Japhet,  I  don't  know — I  do  not  dislike  our  present 
life,  yet  I  am  not  sorry  to  change  it ;  but  what  are  we  to  do  ? ' 

*  That  remains  to  be  considered  :  we  have  a  good  stock  of 
money,  fortunately,  and  we  must  husband  it  till  we  find  what 
can  be  done.' 

We  took  our  suppers  all  together  for  the  last  time,  Mel- 
chior  telling  us  that  he  had  determined  to  set  off  the  next 
day.  Nattee  looked  very  melancholy,  but  resigned  ;  on  the 
contrary,  little  Fleta  was  so  overjoyed,  that  her  face,  generally 
so  mournful,  was  illuminated  with  smiles  whenever  our  eyes 
met.  It  was  delightful  to  see  her  so  happy.  The  whole  of 
the  people  in  the  camp  had  retired,  and  Melchior  was  busy 
making  his  arrangements  in  the  tent.  I  did  not  feel  inclined 
to  sleep  ;  I  was  thinking  and  revolving  in  my  mind  my  pros- 
pects for  the  future ;  sitting,  or  rather  lying  down,  for  I  was 
leaning  on  my  elbow,  at  a  short  distance  from  the  tents.  The 
night  was  dark  but  clear,  and  the  stars  were  brilliant.  I  had 
been  watching  them,  and  I  thought  upon  Melchior's  ideas  of 
destiny,  and  dwelling  on  the  futile  wish  that  I  could  read 
mine,  when  I  perceived  the  approach  of  Nattee. 

'  Japhet,'  said  she,  *  you  are  to  take  the  little  girl  with  you, 
I  find — will  you  be  careful  of  her  ?  for  it  would  be  on  my 
conscience  if  she  were  left  to  the  mercy  of  the  world.  She 
departs  rejoicing,  let  not  her  joy  end  in  tears.  I  depart 
sorrowing.  I  leave  my  people,  my  kin,  my  habits,  and  cus- 
toms, my  influence,  all — but  it  must  be  so,  it  is  my  destiny. 
She  is  a  good  child,  Japhet — promise  me  that  you  will  be  a 
friend  to  her — and  give  her  this  to  wear  in  remembrance  of 

me,  but not  yet — not  till  we  are  gone '  She 

hesitated.  *  Japhet,  do  not  let  Melchior  see  it  in  your  posses- 
sion ;  he  may  not  like  me  having  given  it  away.'  I  took  the 
piece  of  paper  containing  the  present,  and  having  promised 
all  she  required,  'This  is  the  last — yes — the  very  last  time 
that  I  may  behold  this  scene,'  continued  Nattee,  surveying 
the  common,  the  tents,  and  the  animals  browsing.  '  Be  it  so  ; 
Japhet,  good -night,  may  you  prosper!'  She  then  turned 
away  and  entered  her  tent ;  and  soon  afterwards  I  followed 
her  example. 

91 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

The  next  day,  Melchior  was  all  ready.  What  he  had 
packed  up  was  contained  in  two  small  bundles.  He  addressed 
the  people  belonging  to  the  gang,  in  their  own  language. 
Nattee  did  the  same,  and  the  whole  of  them  kissed  her  hand. 
The  tents,  furniture,  and  the  greatest  part  of  his  other  property, 
were  distributed  among  them,  Jumbo  and  Num  were  made 
over  to  two  of  the  principal  men.  Timothy,  Fleta,  and  I 
were  also  ready,  and  intended  to  quit  at  the  same  time  as 
Melchior  and  his  wife. 

*  Japhet,'  said  Melchior,  '  there  is  yet  some  money  due  to 
you  for  our  last  excursion — (this  was  true) — here  it  is — you 
and  Timothy  keep  but  one  purse,  I  am  aware.  Good-bye,  and 
may  you  prosper  ! ' 

We  shook  hands  with  Nattee  and  Melchior.  Fleta  went 
up  to  the  former,  and  crossing  her  arms  bent  her  head. 
Nattee  kissed  the  child,  and  led  her  to  Melchior.  He  stooped 
down,  kissed  her  on  the  forehead,  and  I  perceived  a  sign  of 
strongly  suppressed  emotion  as  he  did  so.  Our  intended 
routes  lay  in  a  different  direction  ;  and  when  both  parties  had 
arrived  to  either  verge  of  the  common,  we  waved  our  hands 
as  a  last  farewell,  and  resumed  our  paths  again.  Fleta  burst 
into  tears  as  she  turned  away  from  her  former  guardians. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

A  cabinet  council — I  resolve  to  set  up  as  a  gentleman,  having  as  legitimate 
pretensions  to  the  rank  of  one  as  many  others. 

I  LED  the  little  sobbing  girl  by  the  hand,  and  we  proceeded 
for  some  time  in  silence.  It  was  not  until  we  gained  the 
high  road  that  Timothy  interrupted  my  reverie,  by  observing, 
'  Japhet,  have  you  at  all  made  up  your  mind  what  you  shall 
do?' 

'  I  have  been  reflecting,  Timothy.  We  have  lost  a  great 
deal  of  time.  The  original  intention  with  which  I  left  London 
has  been  almost  forgotten  ;  but  it  must  be  so  no  longer.  I 
now  have  resolved  that  as  soon  as  I  have  placed  this  poor 
little  girl  in  safety,  that  I  will  prosecute  my  search,  and  never 
be  diverted  from  it.' 

92 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  I  cannot  agree  with  you  that  we  have  lost  time,  Japhet ; 
we  had  very  little  money  when  we  started  upon  our  expedition, 
and  now  we  have  sufficient  to  enable  you  to  prosecute  your 
plans  for  a  long  time.  The  question  is,  in  what  direction  ? 
We  quitted  London,  and  travelled  west,  in  imitation,  as  we 
thought,  of  the  wise  men.  With  all  deference,  in  my  opinion, 
it  was  like  two  fools? 

f  I  have  been  thinking  upon  that  point  also,  Tim,  and  I 
agree  with  you.  I  expect,  from  several  causes,  which  you 
know  as  well  as  I  do,  to  find  my  father  among  the  higher 
classes  of  society ;  and  the  path  we  took  when  we  started  has 
led  us  into  the  very  lowest.  It  appears  to  me  that  we  cannot 
do  better  than  retrace  our  steps.  We  have  the  means  now  to 
appear  as  gentlemen,  and  to  mix  in  good  company ;  and 
London  is  the  very  best  place  for  us  to  repair  to.' 

'That  is  precisely  my  opinion,  Japhet,  with  one  single 
exception,  which  I  will  mention  to  you  :  but  first  tell  me,  have 
you  calculated  what  our  joint  purses  may  amount  to  ?  It 
must  be  a  very  considerable  sum.' 

I  had  not  examined  the  packet  in  which  was  the  money 
which  Melchior  had  given  me  at  parting.  I  now  opened  it, 
and  found,  to  my  surprise,  that  there  were  bank  notes  to  the 
amount  of  one  hundred  pounds.  I  felt  that  he  had  given  me 
this  large  sum  that  it  might  assist  me  in  Fleta's  expenses. 
'  With  this  sum,'  said  I,  '  I  cannot  have  much  less  than  two 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds.' 

'And  I  have  more  than  sixty,'  said  Timothy.  'Really, 
the  profession  was  not  unprofitable.' 

'  No,'  replied  I,  laughing  ;  '  but  recollect,  Tim,  that  we 
had  no  outlay.  The  public  provided  us  with  food,  our  lodging 
cost  us  nothing.  We  have  had  no  taxes  to  pay  ;  and  at  the 
same  time  have  taxed  folly  and  credulity  to  a  great  extent.' 

'  That's  true,  Japhet ;  and  although  I  am  glad  to  have  the 
money,  I  am  not  sorry  that  we  have  abandoned  the  profession.' 

'  Nor  am  I,  Tim  ;  if  you  please,  we  will  forget  it  altogether. 
But  tell  me,  what  was  the  exception  you  were  about  to  make?' 

'  Simply  this.  Although  upwards  of  three  hundred  pounds 
may  be  a  great  deal  of  money,  yet,  if  we  are  to  support  the 
character  and  appearance  of  gentlemen,  it  will  not  last  for 
ever.  For  instance,  we  must  have  our  valets.  What  an 
expense  that  will  be !  Our  clothes  too — we  shall  soon  lose 

93 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

our  rank  and  station  in  society,  without  we  obtain  a  situation 
under  government.3 

'  We  must  make  it  last  as  long  as  we  can,  Timothy  ;  and 
trust  to  good  fortune  to  assist  us.' 

'That's  all  very  well,  Japhet ;  but  I  had  rather  trust  to 
our  own  prudence.  Now  hear  what  I  have  to  say.  You  will 
be  as  much  assisted  by  a  trusty  valet  as  by  any  other  means. 
I  shall,  as  a  gentleman,  be  only  an  expense  and  an  incumbrance ; 
but  as  a  valet  I  shall  be  able  to  play  into  your  hands,  at  the 
same  time  more  than  one  half  the  expense  will  be  avoided. 
With  your  leave,  therefore,  I  will  take  my  proper  situation, 
put  on  your  livery,  and  thereby  make  myself  of  the  greatest 
use.' 

I  could  not  help  acknowledging  the  advantages  to  be  de- 
rived from  this  proposal  of  Timothy's  ;  but  I  did  not  like  to 
accept  it. 

*  It  is  very  kind  of  you,  Timothy,3  replied  I  ;  c  but  I  can 
only  look  upon  you  as  a  friend  and  an  equal.3 

'  There  you  are  right  and  are  wrong  in  the  same  breath. 
You  are  right  in  looking  upon  me  as  a  friend,  Japhet ;  and 
you  would  be  still  more  right  in  allowing  me  to  prove  my 
friendship  as  I  propose  ;  but  you  are  wrong  in  looking  upon 
me  as  an  equal,  for  I  am  not  so  either  in  personal  appearance, 
education,  or  anything  else.  We  are  both  foundlings,  it  is 
true  ;  but  you  were  christened  after  Abraham  Newland,  and  I 
after  the  workhouse  pump.  You  were  a  gentleman  foundling, 
presenting  yourself  with  a  fifty-pound  note,  and  good  clothes. 
I  made  my  appearance  in  rags  and  misery.  If  you  find  your 
parents,  you  will  rise  in  the  world  ;  if  I  find  mine,  I  shall,  in 
all  probability,  have  no  reason  to  be  proud  of  them.  I  there- 
fore must  insist  upon  having  my  own  choice  in  the  part  I  am 
to  play  in  the  drama,  and  I  will  prove  to  you  that  it  is  my 
right  to  choose.  You  forget  that,  when  we  started,  your 
object  was  to  search  after  your  father,  and  I  told  you  mine 
should  be  to  look  after  my  mother.  You  have  selected  high 
life  as  the  expected  sphere  in  which  he  is  to  be  found,  and  I 
select  low  life  as  that  in  which  I  am  most  likely  to  discover 
the  object  of  my  search.  So  you  perceive,'  continued  Tim, 
laughing,  *  that  we  must  arrange  so  as  to  suit  the  views  of  both 
without  parting  company.  Do  you  hunt  among  bag -wigs, 
amber-headed  canes,  silks,  and  satins — I  will  burrow  among 

94 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

tags  and  tassels,  dimity  and  mob  caps  ;  and  probably  we  shall 
both  succeed  in  the  object  of  our  search.  I  leave  you  to  hunt 
in  the  drawing-rooms,  while  I  ferret  in  the  kitchen.  You  may 
throw  yourself  on  a  sofa  and  exclaim — "Who  is  my  father?" 
while  I  will  sit  in  the  cook's  lap,  and  ask  her  if  she  may 
happen  to  be  my  mother.' 

This  sally  of  Timothy's  made  even  Fleta  laugh  ;  and  after 
a  little  more  remonstrance,  I  consented  that  he  should  perform 
the  part  of  my  valet.  Indeed,  the  more  I  reflected  upon  it, 
the  greater  appeared  the  advantages  which  might  accrue  from 
the  arrangement.  By  the  time  that  this  point  had  been  settled, 
we  had  arrived  at  the  town  to  which  we  directed  our  steps,  and 
took  up  our  quarters  at  an  inn  of  moderate  pretensions,  but  of 
very  great  external  cleanliness.  My  first  object  was  to  find 
out  some  fitting  asylum  for  little  Fleta.  The  landlady  was  a 
buxom,  good-tempered  young  woman,  and  I  gave  the  little  girl 
into  her  charge,  while  Timothy  and  I  went  out  on  a  survey.  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  to  put  her  to  some  good,  but  not  very 
expensive,  school,  if  such  were  to  be  found  in  the  vicinity.  I 
should  have  preferred  taking  her  with  me  to  London,  but  I  was 
aware  how  much  more  expensive  it  would  be  to  provide  for  her 
there  ;  and  as  the  distance  from  the  metropolis  was  but  twenty 
miles,  I  could  easily  run  down  to  see  her  occasionally.  I 
desired  the  little  girl  to  call  me  her  brother,  as  such  I  intended 
to  be  to  her  in  future,  and  not  to  answer  every  question  they 
might  put  to  her.  There  was,  however,  little  occasion  for  this 
caution ;  for  Fleta  was,  as  I  before  observed,  very  unlike 
children  in  general.  I  then  went  out  with  Timothy  to  look 
for  a  tailor,  that  I  might  order  our  clothes,  as  what  we  had 
on  were  not  either  of  the  very  best  taste,  or  in  the  very  best 
condition.  We  walked  up  the  main  street,  and  soon  fell  in 
with  a  tailor's  shop,  over  which  was  written  in  large  letters — 
*  Feodor  Shneider,  Tailor  to  his  Royal  Highness  the  Prince 
of  Darmstadt.' 

{ Will  that  do,  Japhet  ? '  said  Timothy,  pointing  to  the 
announcement. 

'  Why,  yes,'  replied  I  ;  '  but  how  the  deuce  the  Prince  of 
Darmstadt  should  have  employed  a  man  in  a  small  country 
town  as  his  tailor,  is  to  me  rather  a  puzzle.' 

*  Perhaps  he  made  his  clothes  when  he  was  in  Germany,' 
replied  Tim. 

95 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Perhaps  he  did ;  but,  however,  he  shall  have  the  honour 
of  making  mine.' 

We  entered  the  shop,  and  I  ordered  a  suit  of  the  most 
fashionable  clothes,  choosing  my  colours,  and  being  very 
minute  in  my  directions  to  the  foreman,  who  measured  me  ; 
but  as  I  was  leaving  the  shop  the  master,  judging  by  my 
appearance,  which  was  certainly  not  exactly  that  of  a  gentle- 
man, ventured  to  observe  that  it  was  customary  with  gentlemen, 
whom  they  had  not  the  honour  of  knowing,  to  leave  a  deposit. 
Although  the  very  proposal  was  an  attack  upon  my  gentility, 
I  made  no  reply ;  but  pulling  out  a  handful  of  guineas,  laid 
down  two  on  the  counter  and  walked  away,  that  I  might  find 
another  shop  at  which  we  might  order  the  livery  of  Timothy  ; 
but  this  was  only  as  a  reconnoitre,  as  I  did  not  intend  to  order 
his  liveries  until  I  could  appear  in  my  own  clothes,  which  were 
promised  on  the  afternoon  of  the  next  day.  There  were,  how- 
ever, several  other  articles  to  be  purchased,  such  as  a  trunk, 
portmanteau,  hat,  gloves,  etc.,  all  which  we  procured,  and 
then  went  back  to  the  inn.  On  my  return  I  ordered  dinner. 
Fleta  was  certainly  clad  in  her  best  frock,  but  bad  was  the 
best ;  and  the  landlady,  who  could  extract  little  from  the  child, 
could  not  imagine  who  we  could  be.  I  had,  however,  allowed 
her  to  see  more  than  sufficient  money  to  warrant  our  expenses  ; 
and  so  far  her  scruples  were,  although  her  curiosity  was  not, 
removed. 

That  evening  I  had  a  long  conversation  with  Fleta.  I  told 
her  that  we  were  to  part,  that  she  must  go  to  school,  and  that 
I  would  very  often  come  down  to  see  her.  At  first,  she  was 
inconsolable  at  the  idea ;  but  I  reasoned  with  her,  and  the 
gentle,  intelligent  creature  acknowledged  that  it  was  right. 
The  next  day  my  clothes  came  home,  and  I  dressed  myself. 
'Without  flattery,  Japhet,'  said  Timothy,  'you  do  look  very 
much  like  a  gentleman.'  Fleta  smiled,  and  said  the  same. 
I  thought  so  too,  but  said  nothing.  Putting  on  my  hat  and 
gloves,  and  accompanied  by  Timothy,  I  descended  to  go  out 
and  order  Tim  liveries,  as  well  as  a  fit-out  for  Fleta. 

After  I  was  out  in  the  street  I  discovered  that  I  had  left 
my  handkerchief,  and  returned  to  fetch  it.  The  landlady, 
seeing  a  gentleman  about  to  enter  the  inn,  made  a  very  low 
courtesy,  and  it  was  not  until  I  looked  hard  at  her  that  she 
recognised  me.  Then  I  was  satisfied ;  it  was  an  involuntary 

96 


I ..,*sb^Sa-=:— r, 


TVz^  master  ventured  to  observe. 
Copyright  1894  by  Macmillan  <&•  Co. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

tribute  to  my  appearance,  worth  all  the  flattering  assertions  in 
the  world.  We  now  proceeded  to  the  other  tailor's  in  the 
main  street.  I  entered  the  shop  with  a  flourishing,  important 
air,  and  was  received  with  many  bows.  *  I  wish,'  said  I,  'to 
have  a  suit  of  livery  made  for  this  young  man,  who  is  about 
to  enter  into  my  service.  I  cannot  take  him  up  to  town  this 
figure.'  The  livery  was  chosen,  and  as  I  expressed  my  wish 
to  be  off  the  next  evening,  it  was  promised  to  be  ready  by  an 
hour  appointed. 

I  then  went  to  a  milliner's,  and  desired  that  she  would  call 
at  the  inn  to  fit  out  a  little  girl  for  school,  whose  wardrobe  had 
been  left  behind  by  mistake.  On  the  fourth  day  all  was  ready. 
I  had  made  inquiries,  and  found  out  a  very  respectable  school, 
kept  by  a  widow  lady.  I  asked  for  references,  which  were 
given,  and  I  was  satisfied.  The  terms  were  low — twenty 
pounds  per  annum.  I  paid  the  first  half  year  in  advance,  and 
lodged  fifty  guineas  more  in  the  hands  of  a  banker,  taking  a 
receipt  for  it,  and  giving  directions  that  it  was  to  be  paid  to 
the  schoolmistress  as  it  became  due.  I  took  this  precaution, 
that  should  I  be  in  poverty  myself,  at  all  events  Fleta  might 
be  provided  in  clothes  and  schooling  for  three  years  at  least. 
The  poor  child  wept  bitterly  at  the  separation,  and  I  could 
with  difficulty  detach  her  little  arms  from  my  neck  ;  and  I  felt 
when  I  left  her  as  if  I  had  parted  with  the  only  valuable  object 
to  me  on  earth. 

All  was  now  ready ;  but  Timothy  did  not,  as  yet,  assume 
his  new  clothes.  It  would  have  appeared  strange  that  one 
who  sat  at  my  table  should  afterwards  put  on  my  livery ;  and 
as  in  a  small  town  there  is  always  plenty  of  scandal,  for  Fleta's 
sake,  if  for  no  other  reason,  it  was  deferred  until  our  arrival  in 
London.  Wishing  the  landlady  good-bye,  who  I  really  believed 
would  have  given  up  her  bill  to  have  known  who  we  could 
possibly  be,  we  got  on  the  outside  of  the  stage-coach,  and  in 
the  evening  arrived  at  the  metropolis.  I  have  been  particular 
in  describing  all  these  little  circumstances,  as  it  proves  how 
very  awkward  it  is  to  jump,  without  observation,  from  one 
station  in  society  to  another. 


98 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

I  receive  a  letter  from  my  uncle,  by  which  I  naturally  expect  to  find  out 
who  is  my  father — Like  other  outcasts  I  am  warned  by  a  dream. 

BUT  I  have  omitted  to  mention  a  circumstance  of  great 
importance  which  occurred  at  the  inn  the  night  before  I  placed 
Fleta  at  the  boarding-school.  In  looking  over  my  portmanteau, 
I  perceived  the  present  of  Nattde  to  Fleta,  which  I  had  quite 
forgotten.  I  took  it  to  Fleta,  and  told  her  from  whom  it 
came.  On  opening  the  paper,  it  proved  to  contain  a  long 
chain  of  round  coral  and  gold  beads,  strung  alternately ;  the 
gold  beads  were  not  so  large  as  the  coral,  but  still  the  number 
of  them,  and  the  purity  of  the  metal,  made  them  of  considerable 
value.  Fleta  passed  the  beads  through  her  fingers,  and  then 
threw  it  round  her  neck,  and  sat  in  deep  thought  for  some 
minutes.  *  Japhet,'  said  she  at  last,  *  I  have  seen  this — I  have 
worn  this  before — I  recollect  that  I  have  ;  it  rushes  into  my 
memory  as  an  old  friend,  and  I  think  that  before  morning  it 
will  bring  to  my  mind  something  that  I  shall  recollect  about  it.' 

'  Try  all  you  can,  Fleta,  and  let  me  know  to-morrow.' 

*  It's  no  use  trying ;  if  I  try,  I  never  can  recollect  anything. 
I  must  wear  it  to-night,  and  then  I  shall  have  something  come 
into  my  mind  all  of  a  sudden  ;  or  perhaps  I  may  dream  some- 
thing. Good-night.' 

It  immediately  occurred  to  me  that  it  was  most  probable 
that  the  chain  had  been  on  Fleta's  neck  at  the  time  that  she 
was  stolen  from  her  parents,  and  might  prove  the  means  of 
her  being  identified.  It  was  no  common  chain — apparently 
had  been  wrought  by  people  in  a  state  of  semi-refinement. 
There  was  too  little  show  for  its  value — too  much  sterling  gold 
for  the  simple  effect  produced ;  and  I  very  much  doubted 
whether  another  like  it  could  be  found. 

The  next  morning  Fleta  was  too  much  affected  at  parting 
with  me,  to  enter  into  much  conversation.  I  asked  whether 
she  had  recollected  anything,  and  she  replied,  *  No ;  that  she 
had  cried  all  night  at  the  thoughts  of  our  separation.'  I 
cautioned  her  to  be  very  careful  of  the  chain,  and  I  gave  the 
same  caution  to  the  schoolmistress  ;  and  after  I  had  left  the 

99 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

town,  I  regretted  that  I  had  not  taken  it  away,  and  deposited  it 
in  some  place  of  security.  I  resolved  to  do  so  when  I  next  saw 
Fleta  ;  in  the  meantime  she  would  be  able,  perhaps,  by  associa- 
tion, to  call  up  some  passage  of  her  infancy  connected  with  it. 

I  had  inquired  of  a  gentleman  who  sat  near  me  on  the 
coach,  which  was  the  best  hotel  for  a  young  man  of  fashion. 
He  recommended  the  Piazza,  in  Covent  Garden,  and  to  that 
we  accordingly  repaired.  I  selected  handsome  apartments, 
and  ordered  a  light  supper.  When  the  table  was  laid,  Timothy 
made  his  appearance  in  his  livery,  and  cut  a  very  smart,  dash- 
ing figure.  I  dismissed  the  waiter,  and  as  soon  as  we  were 
alone  I  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter.  '  Really,  Timothy,  this 
is  a  good  farce  ;  come,  sit  down,  and  help  me  to  finish  this 
bottle  of  wine.' 

'  No,  sir,'  replied  Timothy  ;  '  with  your  permission,  I  prefer 
doing  as  the  rest  of  my  fraternity.  You  only  leave  the  bottle 
on  the  sideboard,  and  I  will  steal  as  much  as  I  want ;  but  as 
for  sitting  down,  that  will  be  making  too  free,  and  if  we  were 
seen,  would  be,  moreover,  very  dangerous.  We  must  both 
keep  up  our  characters.  They  have  been  plying  me  with  all 
manner  of  questions  below,  as  to  who  you  were — your  name, 
etc.  I  resolved  that  I  would  give  you  a  lift  in  the  world,  and 
I  stated  that  you  had  just  arrived  from  making  a  grand  tour — 
which  is  not  a  fib,  after  all — and  as  for  your  name,  I  said  that 
you  were  at  present  incog} 

1  But  why  did  you  make  me  incog.  ? ' 

'  Because  it  may  suit  you  so  to  be  ;  and  it  certainly  is  the 
truth,  for  you  don't  know  your  real  name.' 

We  were  here  interrupted  by  the  waiter  bringing  in  a  letter 
upon  a  salver.  *  Here  is  a  letter  addressed  to  "  I.  or  J.  N.,  on  his 
return  from  his  tour,"  sir,'  said  he  ;  '  I  presume  it  is  for  you  ? ' 

'You  may  leave  it,'  said  I,  with  nonchalance. 

The  waiter  laid  the  letter  on  the  table,  and  retired. 

'  How  very  odd,  Timothy — this  letter  cannot  be  for  me  ; 
and  yet  they  are  my  initials.  It  is  as  much  like  a  J  as  an  I. 
Depend  upon  it,  it  is  some  fellow  who  has  just  gained  this 
intelligence  below,  and  has  written  to  ask  for  a  subscription  to 
his  charity  list,  imagining  that  I  am  flush  of  money,  and 
liberal.' 

*  I  suppose  so,'  replied  Tim  ;  '  however,  you  may  just  as  well 
see  what  he  says.' 

100 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  But  if  I  open  it  he  will  expect  something.  I  had  better 
refuse  it.' 

'  Oh  no,  leave  that  to  me  ;   I  know  how  to  put  people  off.' 

'  After  all,  it  is  a  fine  thing  to  be  a  gentleman,  and  be  peti- 
tioned.' 

I  broke  open  the  seal,  and  found  that  the  letter  contained 
an  enclosure  addressed  to  another  person.  The  letter  was  as 
follows  : — 

'  MY  DEAR  NEPHEW — ["Bravo,  sir,"  said  Timothy;  "  you've 
found  an  uncle  already — you'll  soon  find  a  father."]  From 
the  great  uncertainty  of  the  post,  I  have  not  ventured  to  do 
more  than  hint  at  what  has  come  to  light  during  this  last 
year,  but  as  it  is  necessary  that  you  should  be  acquainted 
with  the  whole  transaction,  and  as  you  had  not  decided 
when  you  last  wrote,  whether  you  would  prosecute  your  in- 
tended three  months'  trip  to  Sicily,  or  return  from  Milan, 
you  may  probably  arrive  when  I  am  out  of  town  ;  I  there- 
fore enclose  you  a  letter  to  Mr.  Masterton,  directing  him  to 
surrender  to  you  a  sealed  packet,  lodged  in  his  hands,  con- 
taining all  the  particulars,  the  letters  which  bear  upon  them, 
and  what  has  been  proposed  to  avoid  exposure  ;  which  you  may 
peruse  at  your  leisure,  should  you  arrive  before  my  return  to 
town.  There  is  no  doubt  but  that  the  affair  may  be  hushed  up, 
and  we  trust  that  you  will  see  the  prudence  of  the  measure  ;  as, 
once  known,  it  will  be  very  discreditable  to  the  family  escutcheon. 
["  I  always  had  an  idea  you  were  of  good  family,"  interrupted 
Tim.]  I  wish  you  had  followed  my  advice,  and  had  not  returned ; 
but  as  you  were  positive  on  that  point,  I  beg  you  will  now 
consider  the  propriety  of  remaining  incognito,  as  reports  are 
already  abroad,  and  your  sudden  return  will  cause  a  great  deal 
of  surmise.  Your  long  absence  at  the  Gottingen  University, 
and  your  subsequent  completion  of  your  grand  tour,  will  have 
effaced  all  remembrance  of  your  person,  and  you  can  easily  be 
passed  off  as  a  particular  friend  of  mine,  and  I  can  introduce 
you  everywhere  as  such.  Take  then  any  name  you  may  please, 
provided  it  be  not  Smith  or  Brown,  or  such  vulgarisms  ;  and 
on  the  receipt  of  this  letter,  write  a  note,  and  send  it  to  my 
house  in  Portman  Square,  just  saying,  "  So  and  so  is  arrived." 
This  will  prevent  the  servants  from  obtaining  any  information 
by  their  prying  curiosity  ;  and  as  I  have  directed  all  my  letters 

101 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

to  be  forwarded  to  my  seat  in  Worcestershire,  I  shall  come  up 
immediately  that  I  receive  it,  and  by  your  putting  the  name 
which  you  mean  to  assume,  I  shall  know  whom  to  ask  for 
when  I  call  at  the  hotel. — Your  affectionate  uncle, 

'  WlNDERMEAR.' 

'  One  thing  is  very  clear,  Timothy,'  said  I,  laying  the  letter 
on  the  table,  *  that  it  cannot  be  intended  for  me.' 

'  How  do  you  know,  sir,  that  this  lord  is  not  your  uncle  ? 
At  all  events,  you  must  do  as  he  bids  you.' 

'  What — go  for  the  papers  !  most  certainly  I  shall  not.' 

*  Then  how  in  the  name  of  fortune  do  you  expect  to  find 
your   father,  when  you  will  not  take  advantage  of  such  an 
opportunity  of  getting  into  society  ?     It  is  by  getting  possession 
of  other  people's  secrets,  that  you  will  worm  out  your  own.' 

'  But  it  is  dishonest,  Timothy.' 

'  A  letter  is  addressed  to  you,  in  which  you  have  certain 
directions  ;  you  break  the  seal  with  confidence,  and  you  read 
what  you  find  is  possibly  not  for  you ;  but  depend  upon  it, 
Japhet,  that  a  secret  obtained  is  one  of  the  surest  roads  to 
promotion.  Recollect  your  position  ;  cut  off  from  the  world, 
you  have  to  reunite  yourself  with  it,  to  recover  your  footing, 
and  create  an  interest.  You  have  not  those  who  love  you  to 
help  you — you  must  not  scruple  to  obtain  your  object  by  fear. 

1  That  is  a  melancholy  truth,  Tim,'  replied  I  ;  l  and  I  believe 
I  must  put  my  strict  morality  in  my  pocket.' 

*  Do,  sir,  pray,  until  you  can  afford  to  be  moral ;  it's  a  very 
expensive  virtue  that ;   a  deficiency  of  it  made  you  an  outcast 
from  the  world  ;  you  must  not  scruple  at  a  slight  deficiency  on 
your  own  part,  to  regain  your  position.' 

There  was  so  much  shrewdness,  so  much  of  the  wisdom 
of  the  serpent  in  the  remarks  of  Timothy,  that,  added  to  my 
ardent  desire  to  discover  my  father,  which  since  my  quitting 
the  gipsy  camp  had  returned  upon  me  with  two-fold  force,  my 
scruples  were  overcome,  and  I  resolved  that  I  would  not  lose 
such  an  opportunity.  Still  I  hesitated,  and  went  up  into  my 
room,  that  I  might  reflect  upon  what  I  should  do.  I  went  to 
bed  revolving  the  matter  in  my  mind,  and  turning  over  from 
one  position  to  the  other,  at  one  time  deciding  that  I  would 
not  take  advantage  of  the  mistake,  at  another  quite  as  resolved 
that  I  would  not  throw  away  such  an  opening  for  the  prosecu- 

102 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

tion  of  my  search ;  at  last  I  fell  into  an  uneasy  slumber,  and 
had  a  strange  dream.  I  thought  that  I  was  standing  upon  an 
isolated  rock,  with  the  waters  raging  around  me ;  the  tide  was 
rising,  and  at  last  the  waves  were  roaring  at  my  feet.  I  was 
in  a  state  of  agony,  and  expected  that,  in  a  short  time,  I  should 
be  swallowed  up.  The  mainland  was  not  far  off,  and  I  per- 
ceived well-dressed  people  in  crowds,  who  were  enjoying  them- 
selves, feasting,  dancing,  and  laughing  in  merry  peals.  I  held 
out  my  hands — I  shouted  to  them — they  saw,  and  heard  me, 
but  heeded  me  not.  My  horror  at  being  swept  away  by  the 
tide  was  dreadful.  I  shrieked  as  the  water  rose.  At  last  I 
perceived  something  unroll  itself  from  the  mainland,  and 
gradually  advancing  to  the  inland,  formed  a  bridge  by  which 
I  could  walk  over  and  be  saved.  I  was  about  to  hasten  over, 
when  '  Private,  and  no  thoroughfare,'  appeared  at  the  end 
nearest  me,  in  large  letters  of  fire.  I  started  back  with  amaze- 
ment, and  would  not,  dared  not  pass  them.  When  all  of  a 
sudden,  a  figure  in  white  appeared  by  my  side,  and  said  to  me, 
pointing  to  the  bridge,  '  Self-preservation  is  the  first  law  of 
nature.' 

I  looked  at  the  person  who  addressed  me ;  gradually  the 
figure  became  darker  and  darker,  until  it  changed  to  Mr. 
Cophagus,  with  his  stick  up  to  his  nose.  'Japhet,  all  nonsense 
— very  good  bridge — um — walk  over — find  father — and  so 
on.'  I  dashed  over  the  bridge,  which  appeared  to  float  on  the 
water,  and  to  be  composed  of  paper,  gained  the  other  side,  and 
was  received  with  shouts  of  congratulation,  and  the  embraces 
of  the  crowd.  I  perceived  an  elderly  gentleman  come  forward  ; 
I  knew  it  was  my  father,  and  I  threw  myself  into  his  arms. 
I  awoke,  and  found  myself  rolling  on  the  floor,  embracing  the 
bolster  with  all  my  might.  Such  was  the  vivid  impression  of 
this  dream,  that  I  could  not  turn  my  thoughts  away  from  it, 
and  at  last  I  considered  that  it  was  a  divine  interposition. 
All  my  scruples  vanished,  and  before  the  day  had  dawned  I 
determined  that  I  would  follow  the  advice  of  Timothy.  An 
enthusiast  is  easily  led  to  believe  what  he  wishes,  and  he 
mistakes  his  own  feelings  for  warnings  ;  the  dreams  arising 
from  his  daily  contemplations  for  the  interference  of  Heaven. 
He  thinks  himself  armed  by  supernatural  assistance,  and 
warranted  by  the  Almighty  to  pursue  his  course,  even  if  that 
course  should  be  contrary  to  the  Almighty's  precepts.  Thus 

103 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

was  I  led  away  by  my  own  imaginings,  and  thus  was  my 
monomania  increased  to  an  impetus  which  forced  before  it 
all  consideration  of  what  was  right  or  wrong. 


CHAPTER    XIX 

An  important  chapter — I  make  some  important  acquaintances,   obtain 
some  important  papers,  which  I  am  importunate  to  read  through. 

THE  next  morning  I  told  my  dream  to  Timothy,  who  laughed 
very  heartily  at  my  idea  of  the  finger  of  Providence.  At  last, 
perceiving  that  I  was  angry  with  him,  he  pretended  to  be 
convinced.  When  I  had  finished  my  breakfast,  I  sent  to 
inquire  the  number  in  the  square  of  Lord  Windermear's  town 
house,  and  wrote  the  following  simple  note  to  his  lordship, 
ljaphet  Newland  has  arrived  from  his  tour  at  the  Piazza, 
Covent  Garden.'  This  was  confided  to  Timothy,  and  I  then 
set  off  with  the  other  letter  to  Mr.  Masterton,  which  was 
addressed  to  Lincoln's  Inn.  By  reading  the  addresses  of  the 
several  legal  gentlemen,  I  found  out  that  Mr.  Masterton  was 
located  on  the  first  floor.  I  rang  the  bell,  which  had  the  effect 
of  '  Open,  Sesame,'  as  the  door  appeared  to  swing  to  admit  me 
without  any  assistance.  I  entered  an  ante -room,  and  from 
thence  found  myself  in  the  presence  of  Mr.  Masterton — a  little 
old  man,  with  spectacles  on  his  nose,  sitting  at  a  table  covered 
with  papers.  He  offered  me  a  chair,  and  I  presented  the 
letter. 

'  I  see  that  I  am  addressing  Mr.  Neville,'  said  he,  after  he 
had  perused  the  letter.  '  I  congratulate  you  on  your  return. 
You  may  not,  perhaps,  remember  me  ? ' 

*  Indeed,  sir,  I  cannot  say  that  I  do  exactly.' 

4  I  could  not  expect  it,  my  dear  sir,  you  have  been  so  long 
away.  You  have  very  much  improved  in  person,  I  must  say  ; 
yet  still,  I  recollect  your  features  as  a  mere  boy.  Without 
compliment,  I  had  no  idea  that  you  would  ever  have  made  so 
handsome  a  man.'  I  bowed  to  the  compliment.  '  Have  you 
heard  from  your  uncle  ? ' 

*  I  had  a  few  lines  from  Lord  Windermear,  enclosing  your 
letter.' 

104 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  He  is  well,  I  hope.' 

'  Quite  well,  I  believe.' 

Mr.  Masterton  then  rose,  went  to  an  iron  safe,  and  brought 
out  a  packet  of  papers,  which  he  put  into  my  hands.  ' You 
will  read  these  with  interest,  Mr.  Neville.  I  am  a  party  to 
the  whole  transaction,  and  must  venture  to  advise  you  not  to 
appear  in  England  under  your  own  name,  until  all  is  settled. 
Your  uncle,  I  perceive,  has  begged  the  same.' 

'  And  I  have  assented,  sir.  I  have  taken  a  name  instead 
of  my  real  one.' 

'  May  I  ask  what  it  is  ? ' 

'  I  call  myself  Mr.  Japhet  Newland.' 

'Well,  it  is  singular,  but  perhaps  as  good  as  any  other. 
I  will  take  it  down,  in  case  I  have  to  write  to  you.  Your 
address  is — 

'  Piazza — Covent  Garden.' 

Mr.  Masterton  took  my  name  and  address,  I  took  the 
papers,  and  then  we  both  took  leave  of  one  another,  with 
many  expressions  of  pleasure  and  good-will. 

I  returned  to  the  hotel,  where  I  found  Timothy  waiting 
for  me,  with  impatience.  'Japhet,'  said  he,  'Lord  Windermear 
has  not  yet  left  town.  I  have  seen  him,  for  I  was  called  back 
after  I  left  the  house,  by  the  footman,  who  ran  after  me — he 
will  be  here  immediately.' 

'  Indeed,'  replied  I.  '  Pray  what  sort  of  person  is  he,  and 
what  did  he  say  to  you  ? ' 

'  He  sent  for  me  in  the  dining-parlour,  where  he  was  at 
breakfast,  asked  when  you  arrived,  whether  you  were  well, 
and  how  long  I  had  been  in  your  service.  I  replied  that  I 
had  not  been  more  than  two  days,  and  had  just  put  on  my 
liveries.  He  then  desired  me  to  tell  Mr.  Newland  that  he 
would  call  upon  him  in  about  two  hours.  Then,  my  lord,' 
replied  I,  '  I  had  better  go  and  tell  him  to  get  out  of  bed.' 

'  The  lazy  dog ! '  said  he,  '  nearly  one  o'clock,  and  not 
out  of  bed  ;  well,  go  then,  and  get  him  dressed  as  fast  as 
you  can.' 

Shortly  afterwards  a  handsome  carriage  with  greys  drew 
up  to  the  door.  His  lordship  sent  in  his  footman  to  ask 
whether  Mr.  Newland  was  at  home.  The  reply  of  the  waiter 
was,  that  there  was  a  young  gentleman  who  had  been  there 
two  or  three  days,  who  had  come  from  making  a  tour,  and 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

his  name  did  begin  with  an  N.      *  That  will  do,  James  ;  let 
down  the  steps.'      His  lordship  alighted,  was  ushered  up  stairs, 
and  into  my  room.     There  we  stood,  staring  at  each  other. 
'  Lord  Windermear,  I  believe,'  said  I,  extending  my  hand. 

*  You  have  recognised  me  first,  John,'  said  he,  taking  my 
hand,   and   looking   earnestly  in  my  face.      '  Good  heavens ! 
is  it  possible  that  an  awkward  boy  should  have  grown  up  into 
so  handsome  a  fellow  ?     I  shall  be  proud  of  my  nephew.      Did 
you  remember  me  when  I  entered  the  room  ? ' 

*  To  tell  the  truth,  my  lord,  I  did  not ;  but  expecting  you, 
I  took  it  for  granted  that  it  must  be  you.' 

*  Nine  years  make  a  great  difference,  John  ; — but  I  forget, 
I  must  now  call  you  Japhet.      Have  you  been  reading  the  Bible 
lately,  that  you  fixed  upon  that  strange  name  ? ' 

1  No,  my  lord  ;  but  this  hotel  is  such  a  Noah's  ark,  that 
it's  no  wonder  I  thought  of  it.' 

'You're  an  undutiful  dog,  not  to  ask  after  your  mother, 


I  was  about- 


<  I  see — I  see,'  interrupted  his  lordship  ;  '  but  recollect, 
John,  that  she  still  is  your  mother.  By  the  bye,  have  you  read 
the  papers  yet  ? ' 

'  No,  sir,'  replied  I  ;  '  there  they  are,'  pointing  to  them  on 
the  side  table.  '  I  really  do  not  like  to  break  the  seals.' 

'That  they  will  not  contain  pleasant  intelligence,  I  admit,' 
replied  his  lordship  ;  '  but  until  you  have  read  them,  I  do  not 
wish  to  converse  with  you  on  the  subject ;  therefore,'  said  he, 
taking  up  the  packet,  and  breaking  the  seals,  *  I  must  now 
insist  that  you  employ  this  forenoon  in  reading  them  through. 
You  will  dine  with  me  at  seven,  and  then  we  will  talk  the 
matter  over.' 

'  Certainly,  sir,  if  you  wish  it,  I  will  read  them.' 

*  I  must  insist  upon  it,  John  ;  and  am  rather  surprised  at 
your  objecting,  when  they  concern  you  so  particularly.' 

'  I  shall  obey  your  orders,  sir.' 

'  Well,  then,  my  boy,  I  shall  wish  you  good  morning,  that 
you  may  complete  your  task  before  you  come  to  dinner.  To- 
morrow, if  you  wish  it — but  recollect,  I  never  press  young 
men  on  these  points,  as  I  am  aware  that  they  sometimes  feel 
it  a  restraint — if  you  wish  it,  I  say,  you  may  bring  your  port- 
manteaus, and  take  up  your  quarters  with  me.  By  the  bye,' 

106 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

continued  his  lordship,  taking  hold  of  my  coat,   'who  made 
this?' 

'The  tailor  to  his  Serene  Highness  the  Prince  of  Darmstadt 
had  that  honour,  my  lord,'  replied  I. 

'Humph  !  I  thought  they  fitted  better  in  Germany  ;  it's  not 
quite  the  thing — we  must  consult  Stulz,  for  with  that  figure 
and  face,  the  coat  ought  to  be  quite  correct.  Adieu,  my  dear 
fellow,  till  seven.' 

His  lordship  shook  hands  with  me,  and  I  was  left  alone. 
Timothy  came  in  as  soon  as  his  lordship's  carriage  had  driven 
off.  '  Well,  sir,'  said  he,  '  was  your  uncle  glad  to  see  you  ? ' 

'  Yes,'  replied  I  ;  '  and  look,  he  has  broken  open  the  seals, 
and  has  insisted  upon  my  reading  the  papers.' 

'  It  would  be  very  undutiful  in  you  to  refuse,  so  I  had  better 
leave  you  to  your  task,'  said  Timothy,  smiling,  as  he  quitted 
the  room. 


CHAPTER   XX 

I  open  an  account  with  my  bankers,  draw  largely  upon  credulity, 
and  am  prosperous  without  a  check. 

I  SAT  down  and  took  up  the  papers.  I  was  immediately  and 
strangely  interested  in  all  that  I  read.  A  secret ! — it  was, 
indeed,  a  secret,  involving  the  honour  and  reputation  of  the 
most  distinguished  families.  One  that,  if  known,  the  trumpet 
of  scandal  would  have  blazoned  forth  to  the  disgrace  of  the 
aristocracy.  It  would  have  occasioned  bitter  tears  to  some, 
gratified  the  petty  malice  of  many,  satisfied  the  revenge  of  the 
vindictive,  and  bowed  with  shame  the  innocent  as  well  as  the 
guilty.  It  is  not  necessary,  nor,  indeed,  would  I,  on  any 
account,  state  any  more.  I  finished  the  last  paper,  and  then 
fell  into  a  reverie.  This  is,  indeed,  a  secret,  thought  I  ;  one 
that  I  would  I  never  had  possessed.  In  a  despotic  country 
my  life  would  be  sacrificed  to  the  fatal  knowledge — here,  thank 
God,  my  life  as  well  as  my  liberty  are  safe. 

The  contents  of  the  papers  told  me  all  that  was  necessary 
to  enable  me  to  support  the  character  which  I  had  assumed. 
The  reason  why  the  party,  whom  I  was  supposed  to  be,  was 

107 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

intrusted  with  it,  was,  that  he  was  in  a  direct  line,  eventually 
heir,  and  the  question  was  whether  he  would  wave  his  claim 
with  the  others,  and  allow  death  to  bury  crime  in  oblivion.  I 
felt  that  were  I  in  his  position  I  should  so  do — and  therefore  was 
prepared  to  give  an  answer  to  his  lordship.  I  sealed  up  the 
papers,  dressed  myself,  and  went  to  dinner  ;  and  after  the  cloth 
was  removed,  Lord  Windermear,  first  rising  and  turning  the 
key  in  the  door,  said  to  me,  in  a  low  voice,  '  You  have  read  the 
papers,  and  what  those,  nearly  as  much  interested  as  you  are 
in  this  lamentable  business,  have  decided  upon.  Tell  me, 
what  is  your  opinion  ? ' 

'  My  opinion,  my  lord,  is,  that  I  wish  I  had  never  known 
what  has  come  to  light  this  day — that  it  will  be  most  advisable 
never  to  recur  to  the  subject,  and  that  the  proposals  made  are, 
in  my  opinion,  most  judicious,  and  should  be  acted  upon.' 

'  That  is  well,'  replied  his  lordship  ;  '  then  all  are  agreed, 
and  I  am  proud  to  find  you  possessed  of  such  honour  and 
good  feeling.  We  now  drop  the  subject  for  ever.  Are  you 
inclined  to  leave  town  with  me,  or  what  do  you  intend  to  do  ? ' 

'  I  prefer  remaining  in  town,  if  your  lordship  will  introduce 
me  to  some  of  the  families  of  your  acquaintance.  Of  course  I 
know  no  one  now.3 

'Very  true  ;  I  will  introduce  you,  as  agreed,  as  Mr.  Newland. 
It  may  be  as  well  that  you  do  not  know  any  of  our  relations, 
whom  I  have  made  to  suppose  that  you  are  still  abroad — and 
it  would  be  awkward,  when  you  take  your  right  name  by  and 
by.  Do  you  mean  to  see  your  mother  ? ' 

'  Impossible,  my  lord,  at  present ;  by  and  by  I  hope  to  be 
able.' 

'  Perhaps  it's  all  for  the  best.  I  will  now  write  one  note  to 
Major  Carbonnell,  introducing  you  as  my  particular  friend,  and 
requesting  that  he  will  make  London  agreeable.  He  knows 
everybody,  and  will  take  you  everywhere.' 

'  When  does  your  lordship  start  for  the  country  ? ' 

'  To-morrow  ;  so  we  may  as  well  part  to-night.  By  the  bye, 
you  have  credit  at  Drummond's,  in  the  name  of  Newland,  for 
a  thousand  pounds ;  the  longer  you  make  it  last  you,  the 
better.' 

His  lordship  gave  me  the  letter  of  introduction.  I  returned 
to  him  the  sealed  packet,  shook  hands  with  him,  and  took  my 
departure. 

1 08 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Well,  sir,'  said  Timothy,  rubbing  his  hands,  as  he  stood 
before  me,  '  what  is  the  news  ;  for  I  am  dying  to  hear  it — and 
what  is  this  secret  ?  ' 

'  With  regard  to  the  secret,  Tim,  a  secret  it  must  remain. 
I  dare  not  tell  it  even  to  you.'  Timothy  looked  rather  grave 
at  this  reply.  '  No,  Timothy,  as  a  man  of  honour,  I  cannot.' 
My  conscience  smote  me  when  I  made  use  of  the  term  ;  for, 
as  a  man  of  honour,  I  had  no  business  to  be  in  possession  of 
it.  '  My  dear  Timothy,  I  have  done  wrong  already,  do  not  ask 
me  to  do  worse.' 

'  I  will  not,  Japhet ;  but  only  tell  me  what  has  passed,  and 
what  you  intend  to  do  ? ' 

'  That  I  will,  Timothy,  with  pleasure ' ;  and  I  then  stated 
all  that  had  passed  between  his  lordship  and  me.  '  And  now, 
you  observe,  Timothy,  I  have  gained  what  I  desired,  an  intro- 
duction into  the  best  society.' 

'  And  the  means  of  keeping  up  your  appearance,'  echoed 
Timothy,  rubbing  his  hands.  '  A  thousand  pounds  will  last  a 
long  while.' 

'  It  will  last  a  very  long  while,  Tim,  for  I  never  will  touch 
it  ;  it  would  be  swindling.' 

'  So  it  would,'  replied  Tim,  his  countenance  falling  ;  '  well, 
I  never  thought  of  that.' 

'  I  have  thought  of  much  more,  Tim  ;  recollect  I  must,  in  a 
very  short  time,  be  exposed  to  Lord  Windermear,  for  the  real 
Mr.  Neville  will  soon  come  home.' 

'  Good  heavens  !  what  will  become  of  us  ?  '  replied  Timothy, 
with  alarm  in  his  countenance. 

'  Nothing  can  hurt  you,  Tim,  the  anger  will  be  all  upon  me; 
but  I  am  prepared  to  face  it,  and  I  would  face  twice  as  much 
for  the  distant  hope  of  finding  my  father.  Whatever  Lord 
Windermear  may  feel  inclined  to  do,  he  can  do  nothing  ;  and 
my  possession  of  the  secret  will  insure  even  more  than  my 
safety ;  it  will  afford  me  his  protection,  if  I  demand  it.' 

'  I  hope  it  may  prove  so,'  replied  Timothy,  '  but  I  feel  a 
little  frightened.' 

*  I  do  not :  to-morrow  I  shall  give  my  letter  of  introduction, 
and  then  I  will  prosecute  my  search.  So  now,  my  dear  Tim, 
good-night.' 

The  next  morning,  I  lost  no  time  in  presenting  my  letter 
of  introduction  to  Major  Carbonnell.  He  lived  in  apartments 

109 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

on  the  first  floor  in  St.  James's  Street,  and  I  found  him  at 
breakfast,  in  a  silk  dressing  gown.  I  had  made  up  my  mind 
that  a  little  independence  always  carries  with  it  an  air  of 
fashion.  When  I  entered,  therefore,  I  looked  at  him  with  a 
knowing  air,  and  dropping  the  letter  down  on  the  table  before 
him,  said,  *  There's  something  for  you  to  read,  major  ;  and, 
in  the  meantime,  I'll  refresh  myself  on  this  chair';  suiting 
the  action  to  the  word,  I  threw  myself  on  a  chair,  amusing 
myself  with  tapping  the  sides  of  my  boots  with  a  small  cane 
which  I  carried  in  my  hand. 

Major  Carbonnell,  upon  whom  I  cast  a  furtive  eye  more 
than  once  during  the  time  that  he  was  reading  the  letter,  was 
a  person  of  about  thirty- five  years  of  age,  well -looking,  but 
disfigured  by  the  size  of  his  whiskers,  which  advanced  to  the 
corners  of  his  mouth,  and  met  under  his  throat.  He  was  tall 
and  well  made,  and  with  an  air  of  fashion  about  him  that  was 
undeniable.  His  linen  was  beautifully  clean  and  carefully 
arranged,  and  he  had  as  many  rings  on  his  fingers,  and,  when 
he  was  dressed,  chains  and  trinkets,  as  ever  were  put  on  by 
a  lady. 

'  My  dear  sir,  allow  me  the  honour  of  making  at  once  your 
most  intimate  acquaintance,'  said  he,  rising  from  his  chair, 
and  offering  his  hand,  as  soon  as  he  had  perused  the  letter. 
'Any  friend  of  Lord  Windermear's  would  be  welcome,  but 
when  he  brings  such  an  extra  recommendation  in  his  own 
appearance,  he  becomes  doubly  so.' 

*  Major  Carbonnell,'  replied  I,  '  I  have  seen  you  but  two 
minutes,  and  I  have  taken  a  particular  fancy  to  you,  in 
which  I,  no  doubt,  have  proved  my  discrimination.  Of  course, 
you  know  that  I  have  just  returned  from  making  a  tour  ? ' 

1  So  I  understand  from  his  lordship's  letter.  Mr.  New- 
land,  my  time  is  at  your  service.  Where  are  you  staying  ? ' 

1  At  the  Piazza.' 

'  Very  good  ;  I  will  dine  with  you  to-day ;  order  some 
mulligatawny,  they  are  famous  for  it.  After  dinner  we  will 
go  to  the  theatre.' 

I  was  rather  surprised  at  his  cool  manner  of  asking  himself 
to  dine  with  me  and  ordering  my  dinner,  but  a  moment's 
reflection  made  me  feel  what  sort  of  person  I  had  to  deal  with. 

'Major,  I  take  that  as  almost  an  affront.  You  will  dine 
with  me  to-day  f  I  beg  to  state  that  you  must  dine  with  me 

no 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

every  day  that  we  are  not  invited  elsewhere  ;  and  what's  more, 
sir,  I  shall  be  most  seriously  displeased,  if  you  do  not  order 
the  dinner  every  time  that  you  do  dine  with  me,  and  ask 
whoever  you  may  think  worthy  of  putting  their  legs  under  our 
table.  Let's  have  no  doing  things  by  halves,  major  ;  I  know 
you  now  as  well  as  if  we  had  been  intimate  for  ten  years.' 

The  major  seized  me  by  the  hand.  '  My  dear  Newland, 
I  only  wish  we  had  known  one  another  ten  years,  as  you  say 
— the  loss  has  been  mine  ;  but  now — you  have  breakfasted, 
I  presume  ? ' 

1  Yes  !  having  nothing  to  do,  and  not  knowing  a  soul  after 
my  long  absence,  I  advanced  my  breakfast  about  two  hours, 
that  I  might  find  you  at  home ;  and  now  I'm  at  your 
service.' 

'  Say  rather  I  am  at  yours.  I  presume  you  will  walk.  In 
ten  minutes  I  shall  be  ready.  Either  take  up  the  paper,  or 
whistle  an  air  or  two,  or  anything  else  you  like,  just  to  kill 
ten  minutes — and  I  shall  be  at  your  command.' 


CHAPTER   XXI 

I  come  out  under  a  first-rate  chaperon,  and  at  once  am  established  into 
the  regions  of  fashion — Prove  that  I  am  deserving  of  my  promotion. 

'  I  BEG  pardon,  Newland,'  said  the  major,  returning  from  his 
dressing-room,  resplendent  with  chains  and  bijouterie  ;  '  but  I 
must  have  your  Christian  name.' 

'  It's  rather  a  strange  one,'  replied  I  ;  '  it  is  Japhet.' 

'  Japhet  !  by  the  immortal  powers,  I'd  bring  an  action 
against  my  godfathers  and  godmothers  ;  you  ought  to  recover 
heavy  damages.' 

'  Then  I  presume  you  would  not  have  the  name,'  replied  I, 
with  a  knowing  look,  'for  a  clear  ten  thousand  a  year.' 

'Whew!  that  alters  the  case — it's  astonishing  how  well 
any  name  looks  in  large  gold  letters.  Well,  as  the  old  gentle- 
man, whoever  he  might  have  been,  made  you  compensation, 
you  must  forgive  and  forget.  Now  where  shall  we  go  ? ' 

'  With  your  permission,  as  I  came  to  town  in  these  clothes, 
made  by  a  German  tailor — Darmstadt's  tailor,  by  the  bye — but 

112 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

still  if  tailor  to  a  prince,  not  the  prince  of  tailors — I  would  wish 
you  to  take  me  to  your  own  :  your  dress  appears  very  correct.' 

'  You  show  your  judgment,  Newland,  it  is  correct ;  Stulz 
will  be  delighted  to  have  your  name  on  his  books,  and  to  do 
justice  to  that  figure.  Allons  done.' 

We  sauntered  up  St.  James's  Street,  and  before  I  had 
arrived  at  Stulz's,  I  had  been  introduced  to  at  least  twenty 
of  the  young  men  about  town.  The  major  was  most  par- 
ticular in  his  directions  about  the  clothes,  all  of  which  he 
ordered  ;  and  as  I  knew  that  he  was  well  acquainted  with  the 
fashion,  I  gave  him  carte  blanche.  When  we  left  the  shop, 
he  said,  '  Now,  my  dear  Newland,  I  have  given  you  a  proof 
of  friendship,  which  no  other  man  in  England  has  had.  Your 
dress  will  be  the  ne  plus  ultra.  There  are  little  secrets  only 
known  to  the  initiated,  and  Stulz  is  aware  that  this  time  I  am 
in  earnest.  I  am  often  asked  to  do  the  same  for  others,  and 
I  pretend  so  to  do  :  but  a  wink  from  me  is  sufficient,  and 
Stulz  dares  not  dress  them.  Don't  you  want  some  bijouterie  ? 
or  have  you  any  at  home  ? ' 

'  I  may  as  well  have  a  few  trifles,'  replied  I. 

We  entered  a  celebrated  jeweller's,  and  he  selected  for  me 
to  the  amount  of  about  forty  pounds.  *  That  will  do — never 
buy  much  ;  for  it  is  necessary  to  change  every  three  months 
at  least.  What  is  the  price  of  this  chain  ? ' 

4  It  is  only  fifteen  guineas,  major.' 

'Well,  I  shall  take  it;  but  recollect,'  continued  the  major, 
'  I  tell  you  honestly  I  never  shall  pay  you.' 

The  jeweller  smiled,  bowed,  and  laughed  ;  the  major  threw 
the  chain  round  his  neck,  and  we  quitted  the  shop. 

'  At  all  events,  major,  they  appear  not  to  believe  your  word 
in  that  shop.' 

'  My  dear  fellow,  that's  their  own  fault,  not  mine.  I  tell 
them  honestly  I  never  will  pay  them  ;  and  you  may  depend 
upon  it,  I  intend  most  sacredly  to  keep  my  word.  I  never  do 
pay  anybody,  for  the  best  of  all  possible  reasons,  I  have  no 
money ;  but  then  I  do  them  a  service — I  make  them  fashion- 
able, and  they  know  it.' 

'  What  debts  do  you  pay  then,  major  ? ' 

'  Let  me  think — that  requires  consideration.  Oh  !  I  pay 
my  washerwoman.' 

'  Don't  you  pay  your  debts  of  honour  ?  ' 
I  113 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Debts  of  honour  !  why,  I'll  tell  you  the  truth  ;  for  I  know 
that  we  shall  hunt  in  couples.  If  I  win  I  take  the  money  : 
but  if  I  lose — why  then  I  forget  to  pay;  and  I  always  tell 
them  so  before  I  sit  down  to  the  table.  If  they  won't  believe 
me,  it's  not  my  fault.  But  what's  the  hour?  Come,  I  must 
make  a  few  calls,  and  will  introduce  you.' 

We  sauntered  on  to  Grosvenor  Square,  knocked,  and  were 
admitted  into  a  large,  elegantly -furnished  mansion.  The 
footman  announced  us — '  My  dear  Lady  Maelstrom,  allow  me 
the  honour  of  introducing  to  you  my  very  particular  friend, 
Mr.  Newland,  consigned  to  my  charge  by  my  Lord  Winder- 
mear  during  his  absence.  He  has  just  arrived  from  the 
Continent,  where  he  has  been  making  the  grand  tour.' 

Her  ladyship  honoured  me  with  a  smile.  *  By  the  bye, 
major,  that  reminds  me — do  me  the  favour  to  come  to  the 
window.  Excuse  us  one  moment,  Mr.  Newland.' 

The  major  and  Lady  Maelstrom  walked  to  the  window, 
and  exchanged  a  few  sentences,  and  then  returned.  Her 
ladyship  holding  up  her  ringer,  and  saying  to  him  as  they 
came  towards  me,  '  Promise  me  now  that  you  won't  forget.' 

1  Your  ladyship's  slightest  wishes  are  to  me  imperative 
commands,'  replied  the  major,  with  a  graceful  bow. 

In  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  during  which  the  conversation  was 
animated,  we  rose  to  take  our  leave,  when  her  ladyship  came 
up  to  me,  and  offering  her  hand  said,  '  Mr.  Newland,  the 
friendship  of  Lord  Windermear,  and  the  introduction  of 
Major  Carbonnell,  are  more  than  sufficient  to  induce  me  to 
put  your  name  down  on  my  visiting  list.  I  trust  I  shall  see 
a  great  deal  of  you,  and  that  we  shall  be  great  friends.' 

I  bowed  to  this  handsome  announcement,  and  we  retired. 
As  soon  as  we  were  out  in  the  square,  the  major  observed, 
'  You  saw  her  take  me  on  one  side — it  was  to  pump.  She 
has  no  daughters,  but  about  fifty  nieces,  and  match-making  is 
her  delight.  I  told  her  that  I  would  stake  my  honour  upon 
your  possessing  ten  thousand  a  year ;  how  much  more  I  could 
not  say.  I  was  not  far  wrong,  was  I  ? ' 

I  laughed.  « What  I  may  be  worth,  major,  I  really  cannot 
say  ;  but  I  trust  that  the  event  will  prove  that  you  are  not  far 
wrong.  Say  no  more,  my  dear  fellow.' 

'  I  understand — you  are  not  yet  of  age — of  course,  have 
not  yet  come  into  possession  of  your  fortune.' 

114 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'That  is  exactly  the  case,  major.  I  am  now  but  little 
more  than  nineteen.' 

1  You  look  older ;  but  there  is  no  getting  over  baptismal 
registries  with  the  executors.  Newland,  you  must  content 
yourself  for  the  two  next  years  in  playing  Moses,  and  only 
peep  at  the  promised  land.' 

We  made  two  or  three  more  calls,  and  then  returned  to 
St.  James's  Street.  *  Where  shall  we  go  now  ?  By  the  bye, 
don't  you  want  to  go  to  your  banker's  ? ' 

'  I  will  just  stroll  down  with  you,  and  see  if  they  have  paid 
any  money  in,'  replied  I,  carelessly. 

We  called  at  Drummond's,  and  I  asked  them  if  there  was 
any  money  paid  into  the  credit  of  Mr.  Newland. 

'  Yes,  sir,'  replied  one  of  the  clerks  :  '  there  is  one  thousand 
pounds  paid  in  yesterday.' 

'  Very  good,'  replied  I. 

'  How  much  do  you  wish  to  draw  for  ? '  inquired  the  major. 

'  I  don't  want  any,'  replied  I.  'I  have  more  money  than  I 
ought  to  have  in  my  desk  at  this  moment.' 

*  Well,  then,  let  us  go  and  order  dinner ;  or  perhaps  you 
would  like  to  stroll  about  a  little  more ;  if  so,  I  will  go  and 
order  the  dinner.  Here's  Harcourt,  that's  lucky.  Harcourt, 
my  dear  fellow,  know  Mr.  Newland,  my  very  particular  friend. 
I  must  leave  you  now ;  take  his  arm,  Harcourt,  for  half  an 
hour,  and  then  join  us  at  dinner  at  the  Piazza.' 

Mr.  Harcourt  was  an  elegant  young  man  of  about  five-and- 
twenty.  Equally  pleased  with  each  other's  externals,  we  were 
soon  familiar :  he  was  witty,  sarcastic,  and  well-bred.  After 
half  an  hour's  conversation  he  asked  me  what  I  thought  of  the 
major.  I  looked  him  in  the  face  and  smiled.  'That  look 
tells  me  that  you  will  not  be  his  dupe,  otherwise  I  had  warned 
you  :  he  is  a  strange  character  ;  but  if  you  have  money  enough 
to  afford  to  keep  him,  you  cannot  do  better,  as  he  is  acquainted 
with,  and  received  by,  everybody.  His  connections  are  good  ; 
and  he  once  had  a  very  handsome  fortune,  but  it  was  soon  run 
out,  and  he  was  obliged  to  sell  his  commission  in  the  Guards. 
Now  he  lives  upon  the  world  ;  which,  as  Shakespeare  says,  is 
his  oyster ;  and  he  has  wit  and  sharpness  enough  to  open  it. 
Moreover,  he  has  some  chance  of  falling  into  a  peerage  ;  that 
prospect,  and  his  amusing  qualities,  added  to  his  being  the 
most  fashionable  man  about  town,  keeps  his  head  above 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

water.  I  believe  Lord  Windermear,  who  is  his  cousin,  very 
often  helps  him.' 

'  It  was  Lord  Windermear  who  introduced  me  to  him,' 
observed  I. 

'Then  he  will  not  venture  to  play  any  tricks  upon  you, 
further  than  eating  your  dinners,  borrowing  your  money,  and 
forgetting  to  pay  it.' 

'You  must  acknowledge,'  said  I,  'he  always  tells  you 
beforehand  that  he  never  will  pay  you.' 

'  And  that  is  the  only  point  in  which  he  adheres  to  his 
word,'  replied  Harcourt,  laughing ;  '  but,  tell  me,  am  I  to  be 
your  guest  to-day  ? ' 

'  If  you  will  do  me  that  honour.' 

'  I  assure  you  I  am  delighted  to  come,  as  I  shall  have  a 
further  opportunity  of  cultivating  your  acquaintance.' 

'  Then  we  had  better  bend  our  steps  towards  the  hotel,  for 
it  is  late,'  replied  I  ;  and  we  did  so  accordingly. 


CHAPTER   XXII 

The  real  Simon  Pure  proves  the  worse  of  the  two — I  am  found  guilty,  but 
not  condemned  ;  convicted,  yet  convince  ;  and  after  having  behaved 
the  very  contrary  to,  prove  that  I  am,  a  gentleman. 

ON  our  arrival,  we  found  the  table  spread,  champagne  in  ice 
under  the  sideboard,  and  apparently  everything  prepared  for  a 
sumptuous  dinner,  the  major  on  the  sofa  giving  directions  to 
the  waiter,  and  Timothy  looking  all  astonishment. 

'  Major,'  said  I,  '  I  cannot  tell  you  how  much  I  am  obliged 
to  you  for  your  kindness  in  taking  all  this  trouble  off  my 
hands,  that  I  might  follow  up  the  agreeable  introduction  you 
have  given  me  to  Mr.  Harcourt.' 

'  My  dear  Newland,  say  no  more  ;  you  will,  I  dare  say,  do 
the  same  for  me  if  I  require  it,  when  I  give  a  dinner. 
(Harcourt  caught  my  eye,  as  if  to  say,  'You  may  safely 
promise  that.')  But,  Newland,  do  you  know  that  the  nephew 
of  Lord  Windermear  has  just  arrived  ?  Did  you  meet 
abroad  ? ' 

'  No,'  replied  I,  somewhat  confused  ;  but  I  soon  recovered 
116 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

myself.     As  for  Tim,  he  bolted  out  of  the  room.      '  What  sort 
of  a  person  is  he  ? ' 

'  That  you  may  judge  for  yourself,  my  dear  fellow,  for  I 
asked  him  to  join  us,  I  must  say,  more  out  of  compliment  to 
Lord  Windermear  than  anything  else  ;  for  I  am  afraid  that 
even  I  could  never  make  a  gentleman  of  him.  But  take 
Harcourt  with  you  to  your  room,  and  by  the  time  you  have 
washed  your  hands,  I  will  have  dinner  on  the  table.  I  took 
the  liberty  of  desiring  your  valet  to  show  me  in  about  ten 
minutes  ago.  He's  a  shrewd  fellow  that  of  yours — where  did 
you  pick  him  up  ? ' 

'  By  mere  accident,'  replied  I  :  '  come,  Mr.  Harcourt.' 

On  our  return  we  found  the  real  Simon  Pure,  Mr.  Estcourt, 
sitting  with  the  major,  who  introduced  us,  and  dinner  being 
served,  we  sat  down  to  table. 

Mr.  Estcourt  was  a  young  man,  about  my  own  age,  but 
not  so  tall  by  two  or  three  inches.  His  features  were 
prominent,  but  harsh  ;  and  when  I  saw  him,  I  was  not  at  all 
surprised  at  Lord  Windermear's  expressions  of  satisfaction, 
when  he  supposed  that  I  was  his  nephew.  His  countenance 
was  dogged  and  sullen,  and  he  spoke  little  :  he  appeared  to 
place  an  immense  value  upon  birth,  and  hardly  deigned  to 
listen,  except  the  aristocracy  were  the  subject  of  discourse.  I 
treated  him  with  marked  deference,  that  I  might  form  an 
acquaintance,  and  found  before  we  parted  that  night,  that  I 
had  succeeded.  Our  dinner  was  excellent,  and  we  were  all, 
except  Mr.  Estcourt,  in  high  good  humour.  We  sat  late — too 
late  to  go  to  the  theatre,  and  promising  to  meet  the  next  day 
at  noon,  Harcourt  and  the  major  took  their  leave. 

Mr.  Estcourt  had  indulged  rather  too  much,  and,  after 
their  departure,  became  communicative.  I  plied  the  bottle, 
and  we  sat  up  for  more  than  an  hour ;  he  talked  of  nothing 
but  his  family  and  his  expectations.  I  took  this  opportunity 
of  discovering  what  his  feelings  were  likely  to  be  when  he  was 
made  acquainted  with  the  important  secret  which  was  in  my 
possession.  I  put  a  case  somewhat  similar,  and  asked  him 
whether  in  such  circumstances  he  would  wave  his  right  for  a 
time,  to  save  the  honour  of  his  family. 

'  No,  by  G — d  ! '  replied  he,  '  I  never  would.  What  !  give 
up  even  for  a  day  my  right — conceal  my  true  rank  for  the 
sake  of  relatives  ?  never — nothing  would  induce  me.' 

117 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  was  satisfied,  and  then  casually  asked  him  if  he  had 
written  to  Lord  Windermear  to  inform  him  of  his  arrival. 

'  No,'  replied  he ;  ( I  shall  write  to-morrow.'  He  soon 
after  retired  to  his  own  apartment,  and  I  rang  for  Timothy. 

*  Good  heavens,  sir  ! '  cried  Timothy,  '  what  is  all  this — and 
what  are  you  about  ?  I  am  frightened  out  of  my  wits.  Why, 
sir,  our  money  will  not  last  two  months.' 

'  I  do  not  expect  it  will  last  much  longer,  Tim ;  but  it 
cannot  be  helped.  Into  society  I  must  get — and  to  do  so, 
must  pay  for  it.' 

'  But,  sir,  putting  the  expense  aside,  what  are  we  to  do 
about  this  Mr.  Estcourt  ?  All  must  be  found  out.' 

'  I  intend  that  it  shall  be  found  out,  Tim,'  replied  I ;  '  but 
not  yet.  He  will  write  to  his  uncle  to-morrow  ;  you  must 
obtain  the  letter,  for  it  must  not  go.  I  must  first  have  time  to 
establish  myself,  and  then  Lord  Windermear  may  find  out  his 
error  as  soon  as  he  pleases.' 

'Upon  my  honour,  Japhet,  you  appear  to  be  afraid  of  nothing.' 

'  I  fear  nothing,  Tim,  when  I  am  following  up  the  object  of 
my  wishes.  I  will  allow  no  obstacles  to  stand  in  my  way,  in 
my  search  after  my  father.' 

'  Really,  you  seem  to  be  quite  mad  on  that  point,  Japhet.' 

'  Perhaps  I  may  be,  Tim,'  replied  I,  thoughtfully.  '  At  all 
events,  let  us  go  to  bed  now,  and  I  will  tell  you  to-morrow 
morning,  all  the  events  of  this  day.' 

Mr.  Estcourt  wrote  his  letter,  which  Tim  very  officiously 
offered  to  put  into  the  post,  instead  of  which  we  put  it  between 
the  bars  of  the  grate. 

I  must  now  pass  over  about  three  weeks,  during  which  I 
became  very  intimate  with  the  major  and  Mr.  Harcourt,  and 
was  introduced  by  them  to  the  clubs,  and  almost  every  person 
of  fashion.  The  idea  of  my  wealth,  and  my  very  handsome 
person  and  figure,  insured  me  a  warm  reception,  and  I  soon 
became  one  of  the  stars  of  the  day.  During  this  time,  I  also 
gained  the  entire  confidence  of  Mr.  Estcourt,  who  put  letter 
after  letter  into  the  hands  of  Timothy,  who  of  course  put  them 
into  the  usual  place.  I  pacified  him  as  long  as  I  could,  by 
expressing  my  opinion,  that  his  lordship  was  on  a  visit  to 
some  friends  in  the  neighbourhood  of  his  seat ;  but  at  last,  he 
would  remain  in  town  no  longer.  You  may  go  now,  thought 
I,  I  feel  quite  safe. 

118 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

It  was  about  five  days  after  his  departure,  as  I  was  saunter- 
ing arm  and  arm  with  the  major,  who  generally  dined  with 
me  about  five  days  in  the  week,  that  I  perceived  the  carriage 
of  Lord  Windermear,  with  his  lordship  in  it.  He  saw  us,  and 
pulling  his  check-string,  alighted,  and  coming  up  to  us,  with 
the  colour  mounting  to  his  forehead  with  emotion,  returned  the 
salute  of  the  major  and  me. 

'  Major,'  said  he,  '  you  will  excuse  me,  but  I  am  anxious  to 
have  some  conversation  with  Mr.  Newland  :  perhaps,3  con- 
tinued his  lordship,  addressing  me,  '  you  will  do  me  the  favour 
to  take  a  seat  in  my  carriage  ? ' 

Fully  prepared,  I  lost  none  of  my  self-possession,  but, 
thanking  his  lordship,  I  bowed  to  him,  and  stepped  in.  His 
lordship  followed,  and,  saying  to  the  footman,  '  Home — drive 
fast,'  fell  back  in  the  carriage,  and  never  uttered  one  word 
until  we  had  arrived,  and  had  entered  the  dining-parlour.  He 
then  took  a  few  steps  up  and  down,  before  he  said,  '  Mr. 
Newland,  or  whatever  your  name  may  be,  I  perceive  that  you 
consider  the  possession  of  an  important  secret  to  be  your  safe- 
guard. To  state  my  opinion  of  your  conduct  is  needless  ; 
who  you  are,  and  what  you  are,  I  know  not ;  but,'  continued 
he,  no  longer  controlling  his  anger,  '  you  certainly  can  have  no 
pretensions  to  the  character  of  a  gentleman.' 

'  Perhaps  your  lordship,'  replied  I,  calmly,  '  will  inform  me 
upon  what  you  may  ground  your  inference.' 

'  Did  you  not,  in  the  first  place,  open  a  letter  addressed  to 
another  ? ' 

'  My  lord,  I  opened  a  letter  brought  to  me  with  the  initials 
of  my  name,  and  at  the  time  I  opened  it  I  fully  believed  that 
it  was  intended  for  me.' 

'  We  will  grant  that,  sir ;  but  after  you  had  opened  it  you 
must  have  known  that  it  was  for  some  other  person.' 

'  I  will  not  deny  that,  my  lord.' 

'  Notwithstanding  which,  you  apply  to  my  lawyer,  repre- 
senting yourself  as  another  person,  to  obtain  sealed  papers.' 

*  I  did,  my  lord  ;  but  allow  me  to  say,  that  I  never  should 
have  done  so,  had  I  not  been  warned  by  a  dream.' 

'  By  a  dream  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  my  lord.  I  had  determined  not  to  go  for  them,  when 
in  a  dream  I  was  ordered  so  to  do.' 

'  Paltry  excuse  !  and  then  you  break  private  seals.' 
119 


'.r  controlling  his  anger. ' 
Copyright  1894  by  Macmillan  &•  Co. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Nay,  my  lord,  although  I  did  go  for  the  papers,  I  could 
not,  even  with  the  idea  of  supernatural  interposition,  make  up 
my  mind  to  break  the  seals.  If  your  lordship  will  recollect,  it 
was  you  who  broke  the  seals,  and  insisted  upon  my  reading 
the  papers.' 

*  Yes,  sir,  under  your  false  name.' 

'It  is  the  name  by  which  I  go  at  present,  although  I 
acknowledge  it  is  false  ;  but  that  is  not  my  fault — I  have  no 
other  at  present.' 

'  It  is  very  true,  sir,  that  in  all  I  have  now  mentioned,  the 
law  will  not  reach  you ;  but  recollect,  that  by  assuming  another 
person's  name ' 

1 1  never  did,  my  lord,'  interrupted  I. 

'  Well,  I  may  say,  by  inducing  me  to  believe  that  you  were 
my  nephew,  you  have  obtained  money  under  false  pretences  ; 
and  for  that  I  now  have  you  in  my  power.' 

*  My  lord,  I  never  asked  you  for  the  money  ;  you  yourself 
paid  it  into  the  banker's  hands  to  my  credit,  and  to  my  own 
name.      I  appeal  to  you  now,  whether,  if  you  so  deceived  your- 
self, the  law  can  reach  me  ? ' 

1  Mr.  Newland,  I  will  say,  that  much  as  I  regret  what  has 
passed,  I  regret  more  than  all  the  rest,  that  one  so  young,  so 
prepossessing,  so  candid  in  appearance,  should  prove  such  an 
adept  in  deceit.  Thinking  you  were  my  nephew,  my  heart 
warmed  towards  you  ;  and  I  must  confess,  that  since  I  have 
seen  my  real  nephew,  the  mortification  has  been  very  great.' 

'  My  lord,  I  thank  you  ;  but  allow  me  to  observe,  that  I 
am  no  swindler.  Your  thousand  pounds  you  will  find  safe  in 
the  bank,  for  penury  would  not  have  induced  me  to  touch  it. 
But  now  that  your  lordship  appears  more  cool,  will  you  do  me 
the  favour  to  listen  to  me  ?  When  you  have  heard  my  life  up 
to  the  present,  and  my  motives  for  what  I  have  done,  you  will 
then  decide  how  far  I  am  to  blame.' 

His  lordship  took  a  chair,  and  motioned  to  me  to  take 
another.  I  narrated  what  had  occurred  when  I  was  left  at  the 
Foundling,  and  gave  him  a  succinct  account  of  my  adventures 
subsequently — my  determination  to  find  my  father — the  dream 
which  induced  me  to  go  for  the  papers — and  all  that  the  reader 
has  already  been  acquainted  with.  His  lordship  evidently 
perceived  the  monomania  which  controlled  me,  and  heard  me 
with  great  attention. 

121 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  You  certainly,  Mr.  Newland,  do  not  stand  so  low  in  my 
opinion  as  you  did  before  this  explanation,  and  I  must  make 
allowances  for  the  excitement  under  which  I  perceive  you  to 
labour  on  one  subject  ;   but  now,  sir,  allow  me  to  put   one 
question,  and  I  beg  that  you  will  answer  candidly.      What 
price  do  you  demand  for  your  secrecy  on  this  important  sub- 
ject?' 

*  My  lord  ! '   replied    I,   rising   with   dignity ;    '  this   is   the 
greatest  affront  you  have  put  upon  me  yet ;  still  I  will  name 
the  price  by  which  I    will  solemnly  bind  myself,  by  all  my 
future  hopes  of  finding  my  father  in  this  world,  and  of  finding 
an  eternal  Father  in  the  next,  and  that  price,  my  lord,  is  a 
return  of  your  good  opinion.' 

His  lordship  also  rose,  and  walked  up  and  down  the  room 
with  much  agitation  in  his  manner.  4  What  am  I  to  make  of 
you,  Mr.  Newland  ?  ' 

'  My  lord,  if  I  were  a  swindler,  I  should  have  taken  your 
money ;  if  I  had  wished  to  avail  myself  of  the  secret,  I  might 
have  escaped  with  all  the  documents,  and  made  my  own  terms. 
I  am,  my  lord,  nothing  more  than  an  abandoned  child,  trying 
all  he  can  to  find  his  father.'  My  feelings  overpowered  me, 
and  I  burst  into  tears.  As  soon  as  I  could  recover  myself,  I 
addressed  his  lordship,  who  had  been  watching  me  in  silence, 
and  not  without  emotion.  '  I  have  one  thing  more  to  say  to 
you,  my  lord.'  I  then  mentioned  the  conversation  between 
Mr.  Estcourt  and  myself,  and  pointed  out  the  propriety  of  not 
making  him  a  party  to  the  important  secret. 

His  lordship  allowed  me  to  proceed  without  interruption, 
and  after  a  few  moments'  thought  said,  '  I  believe  that  you  are 
right,  Mr.  Newland  ;  and  I  now  begin  to  think  that  it  was 
better  that  this  secret  should  have  been  intrusted  to  you  than 
to  him.  You  have  now  conferred  an  obligation  on  me,  and 
may  command  me.  I  believe  you  to  be  honest,  but  a  little 
mad,  and  I  beg  your  pardon  for  the  pain  which  I  have  occa- 
sioned you.' 

*  My  lord,  I  am  more  than  satisfied.' 

'  Can  I  be  of  any  assistance  to  you,  Mr.  Newland  ? ' 

'  If,  my  lord,  you  could  at  all  assist  me,  or  direct  me  in  my 

search : 

'  There  I  am  afraid   I  can  be  of  little  use  ;  but   I   will  give 

you  the  means  of  prosecuting  your  search,  and  in  so  doing,  I 

122 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

am  doing  but  an  act  of  justice,  for  in  introducing  you  to  Major 
Carbonnell,  I  am  aware  that  I  must  have  very  much  increased 
your  expenses.  It  was  an  error  which  must  be  repaired,  and 
therefore,  Mr.  Newland,  I  beg  you  will  consider  the  money  at 
the  bank  as  yours,  and  make  use  of  it  to  enable  you  to  obtain 
your  ardent  wish.' 

1  My  lord — 

'  I  will  not  be  denied,  Mr.  Newland  ;  and  if  you  feel  any 
delicacy  on  the  subject,  you  may  take  it  as  a  loan,  to  be  repaid 
when  you  find  it  convenient.  Do  not,  for  a  moment,  consider 
that  it  is  given  to  you  because  you  possess  an  important  secret, 
for  I  will  trust  entirely  to  your  honour  on  that  score.' 

4  Indeed,  my  lord,'  replied  I,  *  your  kindness  overwhelms 
me,  and  I  feel  as  if,  in  you,  I  had  already  almost  found  a 
father.  Excuse  me,  my  lord,  but  did  your  lordship  ever — 
ever ' 

'  I  know  what  you  would  say,  my  poor  fellow  :  no,  I  never 
did.  I  never  was  blessed  with  children.  Had  I  been,  I  should 
not  have  felt  that  I  was  disgraced  by  having  one  resembling 
you.  Allow  me  to  entreat  you,  Mr.  Newland,  that  you  do  not 
suffer  the  mystery  of  your  birth  to  weigh  so  heavily  on  your 
mind  ;  and  now  I  wish  you  good  morning,  and  if  you  think  I 
can  be  useful  to  you,  I  beg  that  you  will  not  fail  to  let  me 
know.' 

*  May  Heaven  pour  down  blessings  on  your  head,'  replied  I, 
kissing  respectfully  his  lordship's  hand  ;  '  and  may  my  father, 
when  I  find  him,  be  as  like  unto  you  as  possible.'  I  made  my 
obeisance,  and  quitted  the  house. 


CHAPTER   XXIII 

The  major  prevents  the  landlord  from  imposing  on  me,  but  I  gain  nothing 
by  his  interference — For  economical  reasons  I  agree  to  live  with  him 
that  he  may  live  on  me. 

I  RETURNED  to  the  hotel,  for  my  mind  had  been  much  agitated, 
and  I  wished  for  quiet,  and  the  friendship  of  Timothy.  As 
soon  as  I  arrived  I  told  him  all  that  had  passed. 

*  Indeed,'  replied  Timothy,  '  things  do  now  wear  a  pleasant 
aspect ;  for  I  am  afraid,  that  without  that  thousand,  we  could 

123 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

not  have  carried  on  for  a  fortnight  longer.  The  bill  here  is 
very  heavy,  and  I'm  sure  the  landlord  wishes  to  see  the  colour 
of  his  money.' 

'  How  much  do  you  think  we  have  left  ?  It  is  high  time, 
Timothy,  that  we  now  make  up  our  accounts,  and  arrange 
some  plans  for  the  future,'  replied  I.  '  I  have  paid  the  jeweller 
and  the  tailor,  by  the  advice  of  the  major,  who  says,  that  you 
should  always  pay  your  first  bills  as  soon  as  possible,  and  all 
your  subsequent  bills  as  late  as  possible  ;  and  if  put  off  sine  die, 
so  much  the  better.  In  fact,  I  owe  very  little  now,  but  the 
bill  here — I  will  send  for  it  to-night.' 

Here  we  were  interrupted  by  the  entrance  of  the  landlord. 
'  Oh,  Mr.  Wallace,  you  are  the  very  person  I  wished  to  see  ;  let 
me  have  my  bill,  if  you  please.' 

*  It's  not  of  the  least  consequence,  sir,'  replied  he  ;  *  but  if 
you  wish  it,  I  have  posted  down  to  yesterday,'  and  the  land- 
lord left  the  room. 

'  You  were  both  of  one  mind,  at  all  events,'  said  Timothy, 
laughing ;  '  for  he  had  the  bill  in  his  hand,  and  concealed  it 
the  moment  you  asked  for  it.' 

In  about  ten  minutes  the  landlord  reappeared,  and  present- 
ing the  bill  upon  a  salver,  made  his  bow  and  retired.  I  looked 
it  over  :  it  amounted  to  £  1 04  ;  which,  for  little  more  than  three 
weeks,  was  pretty  well.  Timothy  shrugged  up  his  shoulders, 
while  I  ran  over  the  items.  '  I  do  not  see  that  there  is  any- 
thing to  complain  of,  Tim,'  observed  I,  when  I  came  to  the 
bottom  of  it ;  '  but  I  do  see  that  living  here,  with  the  major 
keeping  me  an  open  house,  will  never  do.  Let  us  see  how 
much  money  we  have  left.' 

Tim  brought  the  dressing-case  in  which  our  cash  was 
deposited,  and  we  found,  that  after  paying  the  waiters,  and  a 
few  small  bills  not  yet  liquidated,  our  whole  stock  was  reduced 
to  fifty  shillings. 

*  Merciful  Heaven  !  what  an  escape,'  cried  Timothy  ;    '  if  it 
had  not  been  for  this  new  supply,  what  should  we  have  done  ? ' 

'  Very  badly,  Timothy  ;  but  the  money  is  well  spent,  after 
all.  I  have  now  entrance  into  the  first  circles.  I  can  do  with- 
out Major  Carbonnell ;  at  all  events,  I  shall  quit  this  hotel,  and 
take  furnished  apartments,  and  live  at  the  clubs.  I  know  how 
to  put  him  off.' 

I  laid  the  money  on  the  salver,  and  desired  Timothy  to  ring 
124 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

for  the  landlord,  when  who  should  come  up  but  the  major  and 
Harcourt.  *  Why,  Newland  !  what  are  you  going  to  do  with 
that  money  ? '  said  the  major. 

'  I  am  paying  my  bill,  major.' 

1  Paying  your  bill,  indeed  ;  let  us  see — £104.  Oh,  this  is  a 
confounded  imposition.  You  mustn't  pay  this.'  At  this 
moment  the  landlord  entered.  *  Mr.  Wallace,'  said  the  major, 
'  my  friend  Mr.  Newland  was  about,  as  you  may  see,  to  pay 
you  the  whole  of  your  demand  ;  but  allow  me  to  observe,  that 
being  my  very  particular  friend,  and  the  Piazza  having  been 
particularly  recommended  by  me,  I  do  think  that  your  charges 
are  somewhat  exorbitant.  I  shall  certainly  advise  Mr. 
Newland  to  leave  the  house  to-morrow,  if  you  are  not  more 
reasonable.' 

'  Allow  me  to  observe,  major,  that  my  reason  for  sending 
for  my  bill,  was  to  pay  it  before  I  went  into  the  country,  which 
I  must  do  to-morrow,  for  a  few  days.' 

4  Then  I  shall  certainly  recommend  Mr.  Newland  not  to 
come  here  when  he  returns,  Mr.  Wallace  ;  for  I  hold  myself, 
to  a  certain  degree,  after  the  many  dinners  we  have  ordered 
here,  and  of  which  I  have  partaken,  as  I  may  say,  particeps 
criminiS)  or  in  other  words,  as  having  been  a  party  to  this 
extortion.  Indeed,  Mr.  Wallace,  some  reduction  must  be 
made,  or  you  will  greatly  hurt  the  credit  of  your  house.' 

Mr.  Wallace  declared,  that  really  he  had  made  nothing 
but  the  usual  charges,  that  he  would  look  over  the  bill  again, 
and  see  what  he  could  do. 

*  My  dear  Newland,'  said  the  major,  '  I  have  ordered  your 
dinners,  allow   me   to   settle   your  bill.      Now,    Mr.    Wallace, 
suppose  we  take  off  one-third  ? ' 

'  One-^m/,  Major  Carbonnell !   I  should  be  a  loser.' 

*  I  am  not  exactly  of  your  opinion  ;  but  let  me  see — now 
take  your  choice.      Take  off  ^20,  or  you  lose  my  patronage, 
and  that  of  all  my  friends.     Yes  or  no  ? ' 

The  landlord,  with  some  expostulation,  at  last  consented, 
he  receipted  the  bill,  and  leaving  ^20  of  the  money  on  the 
salver,  made  his  bow,  and  retired. 

'  Rather  fortunate  that  I  slipped  in,  my  dear  Newland  ; 
now  there  are  £20  saved.  By  the  bye,  I'm  short  of  cash. 
You've  no  objection  to  let  me  have  this  ?  I  shall  never  pay 
you,  you  know.' 

125 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  I  do  know  you  never  will  pay  me,  major ;  nevertheless, 
as  I  should  have  paid  it  to  the  landlord  had  you  not  interfered, 
I  will  lend  it  to  you.' 

<  You  are  a  good  fellow  Newland,'  said  the  major,  pocketing 
the  money.  '  If  I  had  borrowed  it,  and  you  had  thought  you 
would  have  had  it  repaid,  I  should  not  have  thanked  you  ; 
but  as  you  lend  it  me  with  your  eyes  open,  it  is  nothing  more 
than  a  very  delicate  manner  of  obliging  me,  and  I  tell  you 
candidly,  that  I  will  not  forget  it.  So  you  really  are  off 
to-morrow  ? ' 

*  Yes,'  replied  I,  « I  must  go ;  for  I  find  that  I  am  not  to 
make  ducks  and  drakes  of  my  money,  until  I  come  into  posses- 
sion of  my  property.' 

'  I  see,  my  dear  fellow.  Executors  are  the  very  devil ; 
they  have  no  feeling.  Never  mind ;  there's  a  way  of  getting 
to  windward  of  them.  I  dine  with  Harcourt,  and  he  has  come 
to  ask  you  to  join  us.' 

'  With  pleasure.' 

'  I  shall  expect  you  at  seven,  Newland,'  said  Harcourt,  as 
he  quitted  the  room  with  the  major. 

'  Dear  me,  sir,  how  could  you  let  that  gentleman  walk  off 
with  your  money  ? '  cried  Timothy.  '  I  was  just  rubbing  my 
hands  with  the  idea  that  we  were  £20  better  off  than  we 
thought,  and  away  it  went  like  smoke.' 

{ And  will  never  come  back  again,  Tim ;  but  never  mind 
that,  it  is  important  that  I  make  a  friend  of  him,  and  his 
friendship  is  only  to  be  bought.  I  shall  have  value  received. 
And  now,  Tim,  we  must  pack  up,  for  I  leave  this  to-morrow 
morning.  I  shall  go  down  to ,  and  see  little  Fleta.' 

I  dined  with  Harcourt.  The  major  was  rather  curious  to 
know  what  it  was  which  appeared  to  flurry  Lord  Windermear, 
and  what  had  passed  between  us.  I  told  him  that  his  lordship 
was  displeased  on  money  matters,  but  that  all  was  right,  only 
that  I  must  be  more  careful  for  the  future.  '  Indeed,  major, 
I  think  I  shall  take  lodgings.  I  shall  be  more  comfortable, 
and  better  able  to  receive  my  friends.' 

Harcourt  agreed  with  me,  that  it  was  a  much  better  plan, 
when  the  major  observed,  'Why,  Newland,  I  have  a  room 
quite  at  your  service ;  suppose  you  come  and  live  with  me  ? ' 

'  I  am  afraid  I  shall  not  save  by  that,'  replied  I,  laughing, 
'  for  you  will  not  pay  your  share  of  the  bills.' 

126 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  No,  upon  my  honour  I  will  not ;  so  I  give  you  fair  warning  ; 
but  as  I  always  dine  with  you  when  I  do  not  dine  elsewhere, 
it  will  be  a  saving  to  you — for  you  will  save  your  lodgings, 
Newland  ;  and  you  know  the  house  is  my  own,  and  I  let  off  the 
rest  of  it ;  so  as  far  as  that  bill  is  concerned,  you  will  be  safe.' 

'  Make  the  best  bargain  you  can,  Newland,'  said  Harcourt : 
4  accept  his  offer ;  for,  depend  upon  it,  it  will  be  a  saving  in 
the  end.' 

c  It  certainly  deserves  consideration,'  replied  I  ;  '  and  the 
major's  company  must  be  allowed  to  have  its  due  weight  in 
the  scale ;  if  Carbonnell  will  promise  to  be  a  little  more 
economical ' 

'  I  will,  my  dear  fellow — I  will  act  as  your  steward,  and 
make  your  money  last  as  long  as  I  can,  for  my  own  sake,  as 
well  as  yours.  Is  it  a  bargain  ?  I  have  plenty  of  room  for 
your  servant,  and  if  he  will  assist  me  a  little,  I  will  discharge 
my  own.'  I  then  consented  to  the  arrangement. 


CHAPTER    XXIV 

The  major  teaches  me  how  to  play  whist  so  as  never  to  lose,  which  is  by 
playing  against  each  other,  and  into  each  other's  hands. 

THE  next  day  I  went  to  the  banker's,  drew  out  ^150,  and  set 

off  with    Timothy  for .      Fleta    threw    herself  into   my 

arms,  and  sobbed  with  joy.  When  I  told  her  Timothy  was 
outside,  and  wished  to  see  her,  she  asked  why  he  did  not 
come  in  ;  and,  to  show  how  much  she  had  been  accustomed 
to  see,  without  making  remarks,  when  he  made  his  appearance 
in  his  livery,  she  did  not,  by  her  countenance,  express  the 
least  surprise,  nor,  indeed,  did  she  put  any  questions  to  me  on 
the  subject.  The  lady  who  kept  the  school  praised  her  very 
much  for  docility  and  attention,  and  shortly  after  left  the 
room.  Fleta  then  took  the  chain  from  around  her  neck  into 
her  hand,  and  told  me  that  she  did  recollect  something  about 
it,  which  was,  that  the  lady  whom  she  remembered,  wore  a 
long  pair  of  earrings,  of  the  same  make  and  materials.  She 
could  not,  however,  call  to  mind  anything  else.  I  remained 
with  the  little  girl  for  three  hours,  and  then  returned  to 

127 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

London — taking    my  luggage   from   the  hotel,   and   installed 
myself  into  the  apartments  of  Major  Carbonnell. 


'  Her  mistress  praised  her  docility  and  application' 

Copyright  1894  by  Macmillan  &•  Co. 

The  major  adhered  to  his  promise  ;  we  certainly  lived  well, 
for  he  could  not  live  otherwise ;  but  in  every  other  point  he 

128 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


was  very  careful  not  to  add  to  expense.  The  season  was  now 
over,  and  everybody  of  consequence  quitted  the  metropolis. 
To  remain  in  town  would  be  to  lose  caste,  and  we  had  a 
conference  where  we  should  proceed. 

*  Newland,'  said  the  major,  '  you  have  created  a  sensation 
this  season,  which  has  done  great  honour  to  my  patronage  ; 
but   I    trust,  next  spring,   that   I   shall  see  you  form  a  good 
alliance  ;  for,  believe  me,  out  of  the  many  heartless  beings  we 
have  mingled  with,  there   are   still   not   only   daughters,  but 
mothers,  who  are  not  influenced  by  base  and  sordid  views.' 

1  Why,  Carbonnell,  I  never  heard  you  venture  upon  so  long 
a  moral  speech  before.' 

*  True,  Newland,  and  it  may  be  a  long  while  before  I  do  so 
again  :  the  world  is  my  oyster,  which  I  must  open,  that  I  may 
live  ;  but  recollect,  I  am  only  trying  to  recover  my  own,  which 
the  world  has  swindled  me  out  of.      There  was  a  time  when 
I    was   even   more   disinterested,    more    confiding,   and    more 
innocent   than   you  were  when   I   first  took  you  in  hand.      I 
suffered,  and  was  ruined  by  my  good  qualities  ;  and  I  now 
live  and  do  well  by  having  discarded  them.      We  must  fight 
the  world  with  its  own  weapons  ;  but  still,  as   I  said  before, 
there  is  some  good  in  it,  some  pure  ore  amongst  the  dross  ; 
and  it  is  possible  to  find  high  rank  and  large  fortune,  and  at 
the  same  time  an  innocent  mind.      If  you  do  marry,  I  will  try 
hard  but  you  shall  possess  both  ;  not  that  fortune  can  be  of 
much  consequence  to  you.' 

1  Depend  upon  it,  Carbonnell,  I  never  will  marry  without 
fortune.' 

*  I  did  not  know  that  I  had  schooled  you  so  well  :  be  it  so 
—  it  is  but  fair  that  you  should  expect  it  ;  and  it  shall  be  an 
item  in  the  match,  if  I  have  anything  to  do  with  it.' 

'  But  why  are  you  so  anxious  that  I  should  marry,  Car- 
bonnell?' 

1  Because  I  think  you  will,  in  all  probability,  avoid  the 
gaming-table,  which  I  should  have  taken  you  to  myself  had 
you  been  in  possession  of  your  fortune  when  I  first  knew  you, 
and  have  had  my  share  of  your  plucking  ;  but  now  I  do  know 
you,  I  have  that  affection  for  you  that  I  think  it  better  you 
should  not  lose  your  all  ;  for  observe,  Newland,  my  share  of 
your  spoliation  would  not  be  more  than  what  I  have,  and  may 
still  receive,  from  you  ;  and  if  you  marry  and  settle  down, 
K  129 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

there  will  always  be  a  good  house  and  a  good  table  for  me,  as 
long  as  I  find  favour  with  your  wife  ;  and,  at  all  events,  a 
friend  in  need,  that  I  feel  convinced  of.  So  now  you  have 
my  reasons  ;  some  smack  of  the  disinterestedness  of  former 
days,  others  of  my  present  worldliness  ;  you  may  believe  which 
you  please.'  And  the  major  laughed  as  he  finished  his  speech. 

'  Carbonnell,'  replied  I,  '  I  will  believe  that  the  better 
feelings  predominate — that  the  world  has  made  you  what  you 
are ;  and  that  had  you  not  been  ruined  by  the  world,  you 
would  have  been  disinterested  and  generous  ;  even  now,  your 
real  nature  often  gains  the  ascendency,  and  I  am  sure  that  in 
all  that  you  have  done,  which  is  not  defensible,  your  poverty, 
and  not  your  will,  has  consented.  Now,  blunted  by  habit  and 
time,  the  suggestions  of  conscience  do  not  often  give  you  any 
uneasiness.' 

'  You  are  very  right,  my  dear  fellow,'  replied  the  major ; 
'and  in  having  a  better  opinion  of  me  than  the  world  in 
general,  you  do  me,  I  trust,  no  more  than  justice.  I  will  not 
squander  your  fortune,  when  you  come  to  it,  if  I  can  help  it ; 
and  you'll  allow  that's  a  very  handsome  promise  on  my  part.' 

'  I'll  defy  you  to  squander  my  fortune,'  replied  I,  laughing. 

'  Nay,  don't  defy  me,  Newland,  for  if  you  do,  you'll  put  me 
on  my  mettle.  Above  all,  don't  lay  me  a  bet,  for  that  will  be 
still  more  dangerous.  We  have  only  spent  about  four  hundred 
of  the  thousand  since  we  have  lived  together,  which  I  consider 
highly  economical.  What  do  you  say,  shall  we  go  to  Chelten- 
ham ?  You  will  find  plenty  of  Irish  girls,  looking  out  for 
husbands,  who  will  give  you  a  warm  reception.' 

'  I  hate  your  fortune  and  establishment  hunters,'  replied  I. 

'  I  grant  that  they  are  looking  out  for  a  good  match,  so  are 
all  the  world  ;  but  let  me  do  them  justice.  Although,  if  you 
proposed,  in  three  days  they  would  accept  you ;  yet  once 
married,  they  make  the  very  best  wives  in  the  world.  But 
recollect  we  must  go  somewhere  ;  and  I  think  Cheltenham  is 
as  good  a  place  as  any  other.  I  do  not  mean  for  a  wife,  but 
it  will  suit  my  own  views.' 

This  last  observation  decided  me,  and  in  a  few  days  we 
were  at  Cheltenham  ;  and  having  made  our  appearance  at  the 
rooms,  were  soon  in  the  vortex  of  society.  '  Newland,'  said 
Carbonnell,  '  I  dare  say  you  find  time  hang  rather  heavy  in 
this  monotonous  place.' 

130 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Not  at  all,'  replied  I  ;  *  what  with  dining  out,  dancing, 
and  promenading,  I  do  very  well.' 

*  But  we  must  do  better.     Tell  me,  are  you  a  good  hand  at 
whist  ? ' 

'  Not  by  any  means.      Indeed,  I  hardly  know  the  game.' 
'It   is   a  fashionable    and   necessary   accomplishment.       I 

must    make    you    master    of   it,    and  our  mornings   shall    be 

dedicated  to  the  work.' 

*  Agreed,'   replied    I  ;   and  from   that   day,  every  morning 
after  breakfast   till   four  o'clock,  the  major  and   I  were  shut 
up,   playing  two  dummies  under  his  instruction.      Adept  as 
he  was,  I   very  soon  learnt  all  the  finesse  and  beauty  of  the 
game. 

'  You  will  do  now,  Newland,'  said  the  major  one  morning, 
tossing  the  cards  away.  '  Recollect,  if  you  are  asked  to  play, 
and  I  have  agreed,  do  not  refuse ;  but  we  must  always  play 
against  each  other.' 

'  I  don't  see  what  we  shall  gain  by  that,'  replied  I  ;  '  for  if 
I  win,  you'll  lose.' 

'  Never  do  you  mind  that ;  only  follow  my  injunctions,  and 
play  as  high  as  they  choose.  We  only  stay  here  three  weeks 
longer,  and  must  make  the  most  of  our  time.' 

I  confess  I  was  quite  puzzled  at  what  might  be  the  major's 
intentions  ;  but  that  night  we  sauntered  into  the  club.  Not 
having  made  our  appearance  before,  we  were  considered  as 
new  hands  by  those  who  did  not  know  the  major,  and  were 
immediately  requested  to  make  up  a  game.  *  Upon  my  word, 
gentlemen,  in  the  first  place,  I  play  very  badly,'  replied  the 
major  ;  '  and  in  the  next,'  continued  he,  laughing,  '  if  I  lose,  I 
never  shall  pay  you,  for  I'm  cleaned  out.' 

The  way  in  which  the  major  said  this  only  excited  a  smile  ; 
he  was  not  believed,  and  I  was  also  requested  to  take  a  hand. 
'  I'll  not  play  with  the  major,'  observed  I,  'for  he  plays  badly, 
and  has  bad  luck  into  the  bargain  ;  I  might  as  well  lay  my 
money  down  on  the  table.' 

This  was  agreed  to  by  the  other  parties,  and  we  sat  down. 
The  first  rubber  of  short  whist  was  won  by  the  major  and  his 
partner :  with  the  bets  it  amounted  to  eighteen  pounds.  I 
pulled  out  my  purse  to  pay  the  major  ;  but  he  refused,  saying, 
'  No,  Newland,  pay  my  partner  ;  and  with  you,  sir,'  said  he, 
addressing  my  partner,  *  I  will  allow  the  debt  to  remain  until 


''  If  I  lose,  I  shall  never  pay  you.' 
Copyright  1894  by  Macmillan  &•  Co. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

we  rise  from  the  table.  Newland,  we  are  not  going  to  let  you 
off  yet,  I  can  tell  you.' 

I  paid  my  eighteen  pounds,  and  we  recommenced.  Although 
his  partner  did  not  perhaps  observe  it,  for  he  was  but  an 
indifferent  player,  or  if  he  did  observe  it,  had  the  politeness 
not  to  say  anything,  the  major  now  played  very  badly.  He 
lost  three  rubbers  one  after  another,  and,  with  bets  and  stakes, 
they  amounted  to  one  hundred  and  forty  pounds.  At  the  end 
of  the  last  rubber  he  threw  up  the  cards,  exclaiming  against 
his  luck,  and  declaring  that  he  would  play  no  more.  *  How 
are  we  now,  sir  ? '  said  he  to  my  partner. 

'  I  owed  you,  I  think,  eighteen  pounds.3 

'  Eighteen  from  one  hundred  and  forty,  leaves  one  hundred 
and  twenty-two  pounds,  which  I  now  owe  you.  You  must, 
I'm  afraid,  allow  me  to  be  your  debtor,'  continued  the  major, 
in  a  most  insinuating  manner.  '  I  did  not  come  here  with  the 
intention  of  playing.  I  presume  I  shall  find  you  here  to- 
morrow night.' 

The  gentleman  bowed,  and  appeared  quite  satisfied. 
Major  Carbonnell's  partner  paid  me  one  hundred  and  forty 
pounds,  which  I  put  in  my  pocket-book,  and  we  quitted  the 
club. 


CHAPTER   XXV 

We  fund  our  winnings,  and  consider  to  refund,  a  work  of  supererogation 
— In  looking  after  my  father,  I  obey  the  old  adage,   '  Follow  your 


As  soon  as  we  were  in  the  street,  I  commenced  an  inquiry  as 
to  the  major's  motives.  '  Not  one  word,  my  dear  fellow,  until 
we  are  at  home,'  replied  he.  As  soon  as  we  arrived,  he  threw 
himself  in  a  chair,  and  crossing  his  legs,  commenced  :  ( You 
observe,  Newland,  that  I  am  very  careful  that  you  should  do 
nothing  to  injure  your  character.  As  for  my  own,  all  the 
honesty  in  the  world  will  not  redeem  it ;  nothing  but  a  peerage 
will  ever  set  me  right  again  in  this  world,  and  a  coronet  will 
cover  a  multitude  of  sins.  I  have  thought  it  my  duty  to  add 
something  to  our  finances,  and  intend  to  add  very  considerably 

133 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

to  them  before  we  leave  Cheltenham.  You  have  won  one 
hundred  and  twenty-eight  pounds.' 

'Yes,'  replied  I  ;  'but  you  have  lost  it.' 

1  Granted  ;  but,  as  in  most  cases,  I  never  mean  to  pay  my 
losses,  you  see  that  it  must  be  a  winning  speculation  as  long 
as  we  play  against  each  other.' 

'  I  perceive,'  replied  I  ;  '  but  am  not  I  a  confederate  ? ' 

'  No  ;  you  paid  when  you  lost,  and  took  your  money  when 
you  won.  Leave  me  to  settle  my  own  debts  of  honour.' 

'  But  you  will  meet  him  again  to-morrow  night.' 

'  Yes,  and  I  will  tell  you  why.  I  never  thought  it  possible 
that  we  could  have  met  two  such  bad  players  at  the  club. 
We  must  now  play  against  them,  and  we  must  win  in  the 
long-run  :  by  which  means  I  shall  pay  off  the  debt  I  owe  him, 
and  you  will  win  and  pocket  money.' 

'  Ah,'  replied  I,  '  if  you  mean  to  allow  him  a  chance  for  his 
money,  I  have  no  objection — that  will  be  all  fair.' 

'  Depend  upon  it,  Newland,  when  I  know  that  people  play 
as  badly  as  they  do,  I  will  not  refuse  them  ;  but  when  we  sit 
down  with  others,  it  must  be  as  it  was  before — we  must  play 
against  each  other,  and  I  shall  owe  the  money.  I  told  the 
fellow  that  I  never  would  pay  him.' 

'  Yes  ;  but  he  thought  you  were  only  joking.' 

'That  is  his  fault  —  I  was  in  earnest.  I  could  not  have 
managed  this  had  it  not  been  that  you  are  known  to  be  a 
young  man  of  ten  thousand  pounds  per  annum,  and  supposed 
to  be  my  dupe.  I  tell  you  so  candidly  ;  and  now  good-night.' 

I  turned  the  affair  over  in  my  mind  as  I  undressed — it  was 
not  honest — but  I  paid  when  I  lost,  and  I  only  took  the 
money  when  I  won, — still  I  did  not  like  it ;  but  the  bank 
notes  caught  my  eye  as  they  lay  on  the  table,  and — I  was 
satisfied.  Alas  !  how  easy  are  scruples  removed  when  we 
want  money  !  How  many  are  there  who,  when  in  a  state  of 
prosperity  and  affluence,  when  not  tried  by  temptation,  would 
have  blushed  at  the  bare  idea  of  a  dishonest  action,  have 
raised  and  held  up  their  hands  in  abhorrence,  when  they  have 
heard  that  others  have  been  found  guilty  ;  and  yet,  when  in 
adversity,  have  themselves  committed  the  very  acts  which 
before  they  so  loudly  condemned  !  How  many  of  the  other 
sex,  who  have  expressed  their  indignation  and  contempt  at 
those  who  have  fallen,  when  tempted,  have  fallen  themselves  ! 

134 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Let  us  therefore  be  charitable  ;  none  of  us  can  tell  to  what  we 
may  be  reduced  by  circumstances  ;  and  when  we  acknowledge 
that  the  error  is  great,  let  us  feel  sorrow  and  pity  rather  than 
indignation,  and  pray  that  we  also  may  not  be  '  led  into 
temptation! 

As  agreed  upon,  the  next  evening  we  repaired  to  the  club, 
and  found  the  two  gentlemen  ready  to  receive  us.  This  time 
the  major  refused  to  play  unless  it  was  with  me,  as  I  had 
such  good  fortune,  and  no  difficulty  was  made  by  our 
opponents.  We  sat  down  and  played  till  four  o'clock  in  the 
morning.  At  first,  notwithstanding  our  good  play,  fortune 
favoured  our  adversaries  ;  but  the  luck  soon  changed,  and  the 
result  of  the  evening  was,  that  the  major  had  a  balance  in  his 
favour  of  forty  pounds,  and  I  rose  a  winner  of  one  hundred  and 
seventy-one  pounds,  so  that  in  two  nights  we  had  won  three 
hundred  and  forty-two  pounds.  For  nearly  three  weeks  this 
continued,  the  major  not  paying  when  not  convenient,  and  we 
quitted  Cheltenham  with  about  eight  hundred  pounds  in  our 
pockets  ;  the  major  having  paid  about  one  hundred  and  twenty 
pounds  to  different  people  who  frequented  the  club  ;  but  they 
were  Irishmen,  who  were  not  to  be  trifled  with.  I  proposed 
to  the  major  that  we  should  pay  those  debts,  as  there  still 
would  be  a  large  surplus  :  he  replied,  '  Give  me  the  money.' 
I  did  so.  *  Now,3  continued  he,  '  so  far  your  scruples  are 
removed,  as  you  will  have  been  strictly  honest  ;  but,  my  dear 
fellow,  if  you  knew  how  many  debts  of  this  sort  are  due  to  me, 
of  which  I  never  did  touch  one  farthing,  you  would  feel  as  I  do 
— that  it  is  excessively  foolish  to  part  with  money.  I  have  them 

all  booked  here,  and  may  some  day  pay when  convenient ; 

but  at  present,  most  decidedly,  it  is  not  so.'  The  major  put 
the  notes  into  his  pocket,  and  the  conversation  was  dropped. 

The  next  morning  we  had  ordered  our  horses,  when 
Timothy  came  up  to  me,  and  made  a  sign,  as  we  were  at 
breakfast,  for  me  to  come  out.  I  followed  him. 

'  Oh !  sir,  I  could  not  help  telling  you,  but  there  is  a 
gentleman  with ' 

« With  what  ? '  replied  I,  hastily. 

'With  your  nose,  sir,  exactly — and  in  other  respects  very 
like  you — just  about  the  age  your  father  should  be.' 

'  Where  is  he,  Timothy  ? '  replied  I,  all  my  feelings  in 
'  search  of  my  father  '  rushing  into  my  mind. 

135 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Down  below,  sir,  about  to  set  off  in  a  post-chaise  and  four, 
now  waiting  at  the  door.' 

I  ran  down  with  my  breakfast  napkin  in  my  hand,  and 
hastened  to  the  portico  of  the  hotel — he  was  in  his  carriage, 
and  the  porter  was  then  shutting  the  door.  I  looked  at  him. 
He  was,  as  Timothy  said,  very  like  me,  indeed,  the  nose  exact. 
I  was  breathless,  and  I  continued  to  gaze. 

1  All  right,'  cried  the  ostler. 

'  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir, '  said  I,  addressing  the  gentle- 
man in  the  carriage,  who  perceiving  a  napkin  in  my  hand, 
probably  took  me  for  one  of  the  waiters,  for  he  replied  very 
abruptly,  *  I  have  remembered  you ' ;  and  pulling  up  the  glass, 
away  whirled  the  chariot,  the  nave  of  the  hind  wheel  striking 
me  a  blow  on  the  thigh  which  numbed  it  so,  that  it  was  with 
difficulty  I  could  limp  up  to  our  apartments,  when  I  threw 
myself  on  the  sofa  in  a  state  of  madness  and  despair. 

'  Good  heavens,  Newland,  what  is  the  matter  ? '  cried  the 
major. 

'  Matter,'  replied  I,  faintly.      '  I  have  seen  my  father.' 

*  Your  father,  Newland  ?  you  must  be  mad.     He  was  dead 
before   you   could  recollect    him — at   least   so   you  told  me. 
How  then,  even  if  it  were  his  ghost,  could  you  have  recognised 
him?' 

The  major's  remarks  reminded  me  of  the  imprudence  I 
had  been  guilty  of. 

*  Major,'  replied  I,   '  I  believe  I  am  very  absurd ;  but  he 
was  so  like  me,  and  I  have  so  often  longed  after  my  father,  so 

long  wished  to  see  him  face  to  face — that I'm  a  great  fool, 

that's  the  fact.' 

'  You  must  go  to  the  next  world,  my  good  fellow,  to  meet 
him  face  to  face,  that's  clear ;  and  I  presume,  upon  a  little 
consideration,  you  will  feel  inclined  to  postpone  your  journey. 
Very  often  in  your  sleep  I  have  heard  you  talk  about  your 
father,  and  wondered  why  you  should  think  so  much  about  him.' 

'  I  cannot  help  it,'  replied  I.  '  From  my  earliest  days  my 
father  has  ever  been  in  my  thoughts.' 

*  I  can  only  say,  that  very  few  sons  are  half  so  dutiful  to 
their  fathers'  memories  —  but  finish  your  breakfast,  and  then 
we  start  for  London.' 

I  complied  with  his  request  as  well  as  I  could,  and  we 
were  soon  on  our  road.  I  fell  into  a  reverie — my  object  was 

136 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

to  again  find  out  this  person,  and  I  quietly  directed  Timothy 
to  ascertain  from  the  post-boys  the  directions  he  gave  at  the 
last  stage.  The  major  perceiving  me  not  inclined  to  talk, 
made  but  few  observations  ;  one,  however,  struck  me. 
'  Windmear,'  said  he,  *  I  recollect  one  day,  when  I  was  prais- 
ing you,  said  carelessly,  "  that  you  were  a  fine  young  man,  but 
a  little  tete  montee  upon  one  point."  I  see  now  it  must  have 
been  upon  this.'  I  made  no  reply ;  but  it  certainly  was  a 
strange  circumstance  that  the  major  never  had  any  suspicions 
on  this  point — yet  he  certainly  never  had.  We  had  once  or 
twice  talked  over  my  affairs.  I  had  led  him  to  suppose  that 
my  father  and  mother  died  in  my  infancy,  and  that  I  should 
have  had  a  large  fortune  when  I  came  of  age  ;  but  this  had 
been  entirely  by  indirect  replies,  not  by  positive  assertions  ; 
the  fact  was,  that  the  major,  who  was  an  adept  in  all  deceit, 
never  had  an  idea  that  he  could  have  been  deceived  by  one  so 
young,  so  prepossessing,  and  apparently  so  ingenuous  as 
myself.  He  had,  in  fact,  deceived  himself.  His  ideas  of  my 
fortune  arose  entirely  from  my  asking  him  whether  he  would 
have  refused  the  name  of  Japhet  for  ten  thousand  pounds  per 
annum.  Lord  Windermear,  after  having  introduced  me,  did 
not  consider  it  at  all  necessary  to  acquaint  the  major  with  my 
real  history,  as  it  was  imparted  to  him  in  confidence.  He 
allowed  matters  to  take  their  course,  and  me  to  work  my  own 
way  in  the  world.  Thus  do  the  most  cunning  overreach 
themselves,  and  with  their  eyes  open  to  any  deceit  on  the 
part  of  others,  prove  quite  blind  when  they  deceive  themselves. 
Timothy  could  not  obtain  any  intelligence  from  the  people 
of  the  inn  at  the  last  stage,  except  that  the  chariot  had  pro- 
ceeded to  London.  We  arrived  late  at  night,  and,  much 
exhausted,  I  was  glad  to  go  to  bed. 


CHAPTER   XXVI 

In  following  my  nose,  I  narrowly  escaped  being  nosed  by  a  beak. 

AND  as  I  lay  in  my  bed,  thinking  that  I  was  now  nearly 
twenty  years  old,  and  had  not  yet  made  any  discovery,  my 
heart  sank  within  me.  My  monomania  returned  with  re- 

137 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

doubled  force,  and  I  resolved  to  renew  my  search  with  vigour. 
So  I  told  Timothy  the  next  morning,  when  he  came  into  my 
room,  but  from  him  I  received  little  consolation  ;  he  advised 
me  to  look  out  for  a  good  match  in  a  rich  wife,  and  leave  time 
to  develop  the  mystery  of  my  birth  ;  pointing  out  the  little 
chance  I  ever  had  of  success. 

Town  was  not  full,  the  season  had  hardly  commenced,  and 
we  had  few  invitations  or  visits  to  distract  my  thoughts  from 
their  object.  My  leg  became  so  painful,  that  for  a  week  I 
was  on  the  sofa,  Timothy  every  day  going  out  to  ascertain  if 
he  could  find  the  person  whom  we  had  seen  resembling  me, 
and  every  evening  returning  without  success.  I  became 
melancholy  and  nervous.  Carbonnell  could  not  imagine  what 
was  the  matter  with  me.  At  last  I  was  able  to  walk,  and  I 
sallied  forth,  perambulating,  or  rather  running  through  street 
after  street,  looking  into  every  carriage,  so  as  to  occasion 
surprise  to  the  occupants,  who  believed  me  mad  ;  my  dress 
and  person  were  disordered,  for  I  had  become  indifferent 
to  it,  and  Timothy  himself  believed  that  I  was  going  out  of 
my  senses. 

At  last,  after  we  had  been  in  town  about  five  weeks,  I  saw 
the  very  object  of  my  search,  seated  in  a  carriage,  of  a  dark 
brown  colour,  arms  painted  in  shades,  so  as  not  to  be  dis- 
tinguishable but  at  a  near  approach  ;  his  hat  was  off,  and  he 
sat  upright  and  formally.  '  That  is  he  ! '  ejaculated  I,  and 
away  I  ran  after  the  carriage.  '  It  is  the  nose,'  cried  I,  as  I 
ran  down  the  street,  knocking  every  one  to  the  right  and  left. 
I  lost  my  hat,  but  fearful  of  losing  sight  of  the  carriage,  I 
hastened  on,  when  I  heard  a  cry  of  '  Stop  him,  stop  him  ! ' — 
'  Stop  him,'  cried  I,  also,  referring  to  the  gentleman  in  black 
in  the  carriage. 

'  That  won't  do,'  cried  a  man,  seizing  me  by  the  collar ; 
*  I  know  a  trick  worth  two  of  that.' 

'  Let  me  go,'  roared  I,  struggling  ;  but  he  only  held  me 
the  faster.  I  tussled  with  the  man  until  my  coat  and  shirt 
were  torn,  but  in  vain  ;  the  crowd  now  assembled,  and  I  was 
fast.  The  fact  was,  that  a  pickpocket  had  been  exercising 
his  vocation  at  the  time  that  I  was  running  past,  and  from  my 
haste,  and  loss  of  my  hat,  I  was  supposed  to  be  the  criminal. 
The  police  took  charge  of  me — I  pleaded  innocence  in  vain, 
and  I  was  dragged  before  the  magistrate  at  Marlborough 

138 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Street.  My  appearance,  the  disorder  of  my  dress,  my  coat 
and  shirt  in  ribands,  with  no  hat,  were  certainly  not  at  all  in 
my  favour,  when  I  made  my  appearance,  led  in  by  two  Bow 
Street  officers. 

'  Whom  have  we  here  ? '  inquired  the  magistrate. 

*  A  pickpocket,  sir,'  replied  they. 

'  Ah  !  one  of  the  swell  mob,'  replied  he.  '  Are  there  any 
witnesses  ? ' 


{ Let  me  go"  roared  /.' 
Copyright  1894  by  MacmUlan  &  Co. 

'  Yes,  sir,'  replied  a  young  man,  coming  forward.  '  I  was 
walking  up  Bond  Street,  when  I  felt  a  tug  at  my  pocket,  and 
when  I  turned  round,  this  chap  was  running  away.' 

'  Can  you  swear  to  his  person  ? ' 

There  were  plenty  to  swear  that  I  was  the  person  who  ran 
away. 

'  Now,  sir,  have  you  anything  to  offer  in  your  defence  ? ' 
said  the  magistrate. 

139 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Yes,  sir,'  replied  I  ;  '  I  certainly  was  running  down  the 
street ;  and  it  may  be,  for  all  I  know  or  care,  that  this 
person's  pocket  may  have  been  picked — but  I  did  not  pick  it. 
I  am  a  gentleman.' 

'All  your  fraternity  lay  claim  to  gentility,'  replied  the 
magistrate  ;  '  perhaps  you  will  state  why  you  were  running 
down  the  street.3 

1 1  was  running  after  a  carriage,  sir,  that  I  might  speak  to 
the  person  inside  of  it.3 

*  Pray  who  was  the  person  inside  ? 3 
'  I  do  not  know,  sir.' 

'  Why  should  you  run  after  a  person  you  do  not  know  ? ' 

'  It  was  because  of  his  nose.9 

'His  nose?'  replied  the  magistrate  angrily.  'Do  you 
think  to  trifle  with  me,  sir  ?  You  shall  now  follow  your  own 
nose  to  prison.  Make  out  his  committal.' 

'  As  you  please,  sir,'  replied  I ;  '  but  still  I  have  told  you 
the  truth  ;  if  you  will  allow  any  one  to  take  a  note,  I  will  soon 
prove  my  respectability.  I  ask  it  in  common  justice.' 

*  Be   it   so,3   replied    the    magistrate ;    '  let  him    sit    down 
within  the  bar  till  the  answer  comes.3 

In  less  than  an  hour,  my  note  to  Major  Carbonnell  was 
answered  by  his  appearance  in  person,  followed  by  Timothy. 
Carbonnell  walked  up  to  the  magistrate,  while  Timothy  asked 
the  officers  in  an  angry  tone,  what  they  had  been  doing  to 
his  master.  This  rather  startled  them,  but  both  they  and  the 
magistrate  were  much  surprised  when  the  major  asserted 
that  I  was  his  most  particular  friend,  Mr.  Newland,  who 
possessed  ten  thousand  pounds  per  annum,  and  who  was  as 
well  known  in  fashionable  society  as  any  young  man  of  fortune 
about  town.  The  magistrate  explained  what  had  passed,  and 
asked  the  major  if  I  was  not  a  little  deranged  ;  but  the  major, 
who  perceived  what  was  the  cause  of  my  strange  behaviour, 
told  him  that  somebody  had  insulted  me,  and  that  I  was  very 
anxious  to  lay  hold  of  the  person  who  had  avoided  me,  and 
who  must  have  been  in  that  carriage. 

'  I  am  afraid,  that  after  your  explanation,  Major  Carbonnell, 
I  must,  as  a  magistrate,  bind  over  your  friend,  Mr.  Newland, 
to  keep  the  peace.3 

To  this  I  consented,  the  major  and  Timothy  being  taken 
as  recognisances,  and  then  I  was  permitted  to  depart.  The 

140 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

major  sent  for  a  hackney  coach  ;  and  when  we  were  going 
home  he  pointed  out  to  me  the  folly  of  my  conduct,  and 
received  my  promise  to  be  more  careful  for  the  future.  Thus 
did  this  affair  end,  and  for  a  short  time  I  was  more  careful  in 
my  appearance,  and  not  so  very  anxious  to  look  into  carriages  ; 
still,  however,  the  idea  haunted  me,  and  I  was  often  very 
melancholy.  It  was  about  a  month  afterwards,  that  I  was 
sauntering  with  the  major,  who  now  considered  me  to  be 
insane  upon  that  point,  and  who  would  seldom  allow  me  to  go 
out  without  him,  when  I  again  perceived  the  same  carriage, 
with  the  gentleman  inside  as  before. 

'  There  he  is,  major,'  cried  I. 

*  There  is  who  ? '  replied  he. 

'  The  man  so  like  my  father.3 

'What,  in  that  carriage  ?  that  is  the  Bishop  of  E ,  my 

good  fellow.  What  a  strange  idea  you  have  in  your  head, 
Newland  ;  it  almost  amounts  to  madness.  Do  not  be  staring 
in  that  way — come  along.' 

Still  my  head  was  turned  quite  round,  looking  at  the 
carriage  after  it  had  passed,  till  it  was  out  of  sight ;  but  I 
knew  who  the  party  was,  and  for  the  time  I  was  satisfied,  as 
I  determined  to  find  out  his  address,  and  call  upon  him.  I 
narrated  to  Timothy  what  had  occurred,  and  referring  to  the 
Red  Book,  I  looked  out  the  bishop's  town  address  ;  and  the 
next  day,  after  breakfast,  having  arranged  my  toilet  with  the 
utmost  precision,  I  made  an  excuse  to  the  major,  and  set  off 
to  Portland  Place. 


CHAPTER   XXVII 

A  chapter  of  mistakes — No  benefit  of  clergy — I  attack  a  bishop,  and  am 
beaten  off — The  major  hedges  upon  the  filly  stakes. 

MY  hand  trembled  as  I  knocked  at  the  door.  It  was  opened. 
I  sent  in  my  card,  requesting  the  honour  of  an  audience  with 
his  lordship.  After  waiting  a  few  minutes  in  an  ante-room,  I 
was  ushered  in.  '  My  lord,'  said  I,  in  a  flurried  manner,  '  will 
you  allow  me  to  have  a  few  minutes'  conversation  with  you 
alone  ? ' 

141 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'This  gentleman  is  my  secretary,  sir,  but  if  you  wish  it, 
certainly  ;  for  although  he  is  my  confidant,  I  have  no  right  to 
insist  that  he  shall  be  yours.  Mr.  Temple,  will  you  oblige 
me  by  going  upstairs  for  a  little  while  ? ' 

The  secretary  quitted  the  room,  the  bishop  pointed  to  a 
chair,  and  I  sat  down.  I  looked  him  earnestly  in  the  face — 
the  nose  was  exact,  and  I  imagined  that  even  in  the  other 
features  1  could  distinguish  a  resemblance.  I  was  satisfied 
that  I  had  at  last  gained  the  object  of  my  search.  ' I  believe, 
sir,'  observed  I,  '  that  you  will  acknowledge,  that  in  the  heat 
and  impetuosity  of  youth,  we  often  rush  into  hasty  and 
improvident  connections.' 

I  paused,  with  my  eyes  fixed  upon  his.  'Very  true,  my 
young  sir ;  and  when  we  do  we  are  ashamed,  and  repent  of 
them  afterwards,'  replied  the  bishop,  rather  astonished. 

'  I  grant  that,  sir,'  replied  I  ;  'but  at  the  same  time,  we 
must  feel  that  we  must  abide  by  the  results,  however  un- 
pleasant.' 

'  When  we  do  wrong,  Mr.  Newland,'  replied  the  bishop, 
first  looking  at  my  card,  and  then  upon  me,  '  we  find  that  we 
are  not  only  to  be  punished  in  the  next  world,  but  suffer  for  it 
also  in  this.  I  trust  you  have  no  reason  for  such  suffering  ? ' 

'  Unfortunately,  the  sins  of  the  fathers  are  visited  upon  the 
children,  and,  in  that  view,  I  may  say  that  I  have  suffered.' 

'  My  dear  sir,'  replied  the  bishop,  '  I  trust  you  will  excuse 
me,  when  I  say,  that  my  time  is  rather  valuable  ;  if  you  have 
anything  of  importance  to  communicate — anything  upon  which 
you  would  ask  my  advice — for  assistance  you  do  not  appear 
to  require,  do  me  the  favour  to  proceed  at  once  to  the 
point.' 

'  I  will,  sir,  be  as  concise  as  the  matter  will  admit  of.  Allow 
me,  then,  to  ask  you  a  few  questions,  and  I  trust  to  your 
honour,  and  the  dignity  of  your  profession,  for  a  candid 
answer.  Did  you  not  marry  a  young  woman  early  in  life  ? 
and  were  you  not  very  much  pressed  in  your  circumstances  ? ' 

The  bishop  stared.  '  Really,  Mr.  Newland,  it  is  a  strange 
question,  and  I  cannot  imagine  to  what  it  may  lead,  but  still  I 
will  answer  it.  I  did  marry  early  in  life,  and  I  was,  at  that 
time,  not  in  very  affluent  circumstances.' 

'You  had  a  child  by  that  marriage — your  eldest  born — 
a  boy  ! ' 

142 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  That  is  also  true,  Mr.  Newland,'  replied  the  bishop, 
gravely. 

'  How  long  is  it  since  you  have  seen  him  ? 

'  It  is  many  years,'  replied  the  bishop,  putting  his  handker- 
chief up  to  his  eyes. 

'  Answer  me,  now,  sir — did  you  not  desert  him  ? ' 

'No,  no!'  replied  the  bishop.  'It  is  strange  that  you 
should  appear  to  know  so  much  about  the  matter,  Mr. 
Newland,  as  you  could  have  hardly  been  born.  I  was  poor 
then — very  poor ;  but  although  I  could  ill  afford  it,  he  had 
fifty  pounds  from  me.' 

'But,  sir,'  replied  I,  much  agitated;  'why  have  you  not 
reclaimed  him  ? ' 

'I  would  have  reclaimed  him,  Mr.  Newland  —  but  what 
could  I  do — he  was  not  to  be  reclaimed ;  and  now — he  is  lost 
for  ever.' 

'  Surely,  sir,  in  your  present  affluence,  you  must  wish  to  see 
him  again  ? ' 

'  He  died,  and  I  trust  he  has  gone  to  heaven,'  replied  the 
bishop,  covering  up  his  face. 

'  No,  sir,'  replied  I,  throwing  myself  on  my  knees  before 
him,  '  he  did  not  die,  here  he  is  at  your  feet,  to  ask  your 
blessing.' 

The  bishop  sprang  from  his  chair.  '  What  does  this  mean, 
sir  ? '  said  he,  with  astonishment.  '  You  my  son  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  reverend  father — your  son  ;  who,  with  fifty  pounds 
you  left — 

'  On  the  top  of  the  Portsmouth  coach  ! ' 

'  No,  sir,  in  the  basket? 

'  My  son  !  sir, — impossible  ;  he  died  in  the  hospital.' 

'  No,  sir,  he  has  come  out  of  the  hospital?  replied  I  ;  '  and, 
as  you  perceive,  safe  and  well.' 

'  Either,  sir,  this  must  be  some  strange  mistake,  or  you 
must  be  trifling  with  me,'  replied  his  lordship  ;  '  for,  sir,  I  was 
at  his  death-bed,  and  followed  him  to  his  grave.' 

'  Are  you  sure  of  that,  sir  ? '  replied  I,  starting  up  with 
amazement. 

'  I  wish  that  I  was  not,  sir — for  I  am  now  childless  ;  but 
pray,  sir,  who,  and  what  are  you,  who  know  so  much  of  my 
former  life,  and  who  would  have  thus  imposed  upon  me  ? ' 

*  Imposed  upon  you,  sir  ! '  replied  I,  perceiving  that   I   was 

143 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

in  error.  *  Alas  !  I  would  do  no  such  thing.  Who  am  I  ?  I 
am  a  young  man  who  is  in  search  of  his  father.  Your  face, 
and  especially  your  nose,  so  resembled  mine,  that  I  made  sure 
that  I  had  succeeded.  Pity  me,  sir — pity  me,3  continued  I, 
covering  up  my  face  with  my  hands. 

The  bishop,  perceiving  that  there  was  little  of  the  impostor 
in  my  appearance,  and  that  I  was  much  affected,  allowed  a 
short  time  for  me  to  recover  myself,  and  then  entered  into  an 
explanation.  When  a  curate,  he  had  had  an  only  son,  very 
wild,  who  would  go  to  sea  in  spite  of  his  remonstrances.  He 
saw  him  depart  by  the  Portsmouth  coach,  and  gave  him  the 
sum  mentioned.  His  son  received  a  mortal  wound  in  action, 
and  was  sent  to  the  Plymouth  hospital,  where  he  died.  I  then 
entered  into  my  explanation  in  a  few  concise  sentences,  and 
with  a  heart  beating  with  disappointment,  took  my  leave. 
The  bishop  shook  hands  with  me  as  I  quitted  the  room,  and 
wished  me  better  success  at  my  next  application. 

I  went  home  almost  in  despair.  Timothy  consoled  me  as 
well  as  he  could,  and  advised  me  to  go  as  much  as  possible 
into  society,  as  the  most  likely  chance  of  obtaining  my  wish, 
not  that  he  considered  there  was  any  chance,  but  he  thought 
that  amusement  would  restore  me  to  my  usual  spirits.  '  I  will 
go  and  visit  little  Fleta,'  replied  I,  *  for  a  few  days  ;  the  sight 
of  her  will  do  me  more  good  than  anything  else.'  And  the 

next  day  I  set  off  for  the  town  of ,  where  I  found  the  dear 

little  girl,  much  grown,  and  much  improved.  I  remained  with 
her  for  a  week,  walking  with  her  in  the  country,  amusing  her, 
and  amused  myself  with  our  conversation.  At  the  close  of 
the  week  I  bade  her  farewell,  and  returned  to  the  major's 
lodgings. 

I  was  astonished  to  find  him  in  deep  mourning.  '  My  dear 
Carbonnell,'  said  I,  inquiringly,  '  I  hope  no  severe  loss  ?' 

'  Nay,  my  dear  Newland,  I  should  be  a  hypocrite  if  I  said 
so  ;  for  there  never  was  a  more  merry  mourner,  and  that's 

the  truth  of  it.      Mr.   M ,  who,  you  know,  stood  between 

me  and  the  peerage,  has  been  drowned  in  the  Rhone;  I  now 
have  a  squeak  for  it.  His  wife  has  one  daughter,  and  is 
enceinte.  Should  the  child  prove  a  boy,  I  am  done  for,  but 
if  a  girl,  I  must  then  come  in  to  the  barony,  and  fifteen  thou- 
sand pounds  per  annum.  However,  I've  hedged  pretty  hand- 
somely.5 

144 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'How  do  you  mean  ? ' 

'  Why  they  say  that  when  a  woman  commences  with  girls, 
she  generally  goes  on,  and  the  odds  are  two  to  one  that  Mrs. 

M has  a  girl.  I  have  taken  the  odds  at  the  clubs  to  the 

amount  of  fifteen  thousand  pounds  ;  so  if  it  be  a  girl  I  shall 
have  to  pay  that  out  of  my  fifteen  thousand  pounds  per  annum, 
as  soon  as  I  fall  into  it ;  if  it  be  a  boy,  and  I  am  floored,  I 
shall  pocket  thirty  thousand  pounds  by  way  of  consolation  for 
the  disappointment.  They  are  all  good  men.' 

'  Yes,  but  they  know  you  never  pay.' 

( They  know  I  never  do  now,  because  I  have  no  money  ; 
but  they  know  I  will  pay  if  I  come  into  the  estate  ;  and  so 
I  will,  most  honourably,  besides  a  few  more  thousands  that  I 
have  in  my  book.' 

'  I  congratulate  you,  with  all  my  heart,  major.  How  old  is 
the  present  Lord  B ?  ' 

'  I  have  just  been  examining  the  peerage — he  is  sixty-two  ; 
but  he  is  very  fresh  and  hearty,  and  may  live  a  long  while  yet. 
By  the  bye,  Newland,  I  committed  a  great  error  last  night 
at  the  club.  I  played  pretty  high,  and  lost  a  great  deal  of 
money.' 

1  That  is  unfortunate.' 

1  That  was  not  the  error ;  I  actually  paid  all  my  losings, 
Newland,  and  it  has  reduced  the  stock  amazingly,  I  lost  seven 
hundred  and  fifty  pounds.  I  know  I  ought  not  to  have  paid 
away  your  money  ;  but  the  fact  was,  as  I  was  hedging,  it 
would  not  do  not  to  have  paid,  as  I  could  not  have  made  up 
my  book  as  I  wished.  It  is,  however,  only  waiting  a  few 

weeks,  till  Mrs.  M decides  my  fate,  and  then,  either  one 

way  or  the  other,  I  shall  have  money  enough.  If  your  people 
won't  give  you  any  till  you  are  of  age,  why  we  must  send  to 
a  little  friend  of  mine,  that's  all,  and  you  shall  borrow  for  both 
of  us.' 

'  Borrow  ! '  replied  I,  not  much  liking  the  idea  ;  *  they  will 
never  lend  me  money.' 

*  Won't  they  ?  '  replied  the  major  ;  '  no  fear  of  that.      Your 
signature,  and  my  introduction,  will  be  quite  sufficient.' 

*  We  had  better  try  to  do  without  it,  major ;  I  do  not  much 
like  it.' 

'  Well,  if  we  can,  we  will ;  but  I  have  not  fifty  pounds  left 
in  my  desk  ;  how  much  have  you  ? ' 

L  145 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  About  twenty,'  replied  I,  in  despair  at  this  intelligence  ; 
'  but  I  think  there  is  a  small  sum  left  at  the  banker's  ;  I  will 
go  and  see.'  I  took  up  my  hat  and  set  off,  to  ascertain  what 
funds  we  might  have  in  store. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII 

I  am  over  head  and  ears  in  trouble  about  a  lady's  earrings  ;  commit 
myself  sadly,  and  am  very  nearly  committed. 

I  MUST  say  that  I  was  much  annoyed  at  this  intelligence. 
The  money-lenders  would  not  be  satisfied  unless  they  knew 
where  my  estates  were,  and  had  examined  the  will  at  Doctors' 
Commons ;  then  all  would  be  exposed  to  the  major,  and  I 
should  be  considered  by  him  as  an  impostor.  I  walked  down 
Pall  Mall  in  a  very  unhappy  mood,  so  deep  in  thought,  that  I 
ran  against  a  lady,  who  was  stepping  out  of  her  carriage  at  a 
fashionable  shop.  She  turned  round,  and  I  was  making  my 
best  apologies  to  a  very  handsome  woman,  when  her  earrings 
caught  my  attention.  They  were  of  alternate  coral  and  gold, 
and  the  facsimile  in  make  to  the  chain  given  by  Nattde  to 
Fleta.  During  my  last  visit,  I  had  often  had  the  chain  in  my 
hand,  and  particularly  marked  the  workmanship.  To  make 
more  sure,  I  followed  into  the  shop,  and  stood  behind  her, 
carefully  examining  them,  as  she  looked  over  a  quantity  of 
laces.  There  could  be  no  doubt.  I  waited  till  the  lady  rose 
to  go  away,  and  then  addressed  the  shopman,  asking  the  lady's 
name.  He  did  not  know — she  was  a  stranger ;  but  perhaps 

Mr.  H ,  the  master,  did,  and  he  went  back  to  answer  the 

question.      Mr.  H being  at  that  moment  busy,  the  man 

stayed  so  long,  that  I  heard  the  carriage  drive  off.  Fearful  of 
losing  sight  of  the  lady,  I  took  to  my  heels,  and  ran  out  of  the 
shop.  My  sudden  flight  from  the  counter,  covered  with  lace, 
made  them  imagine  that  I  had  stolen  some,  and  they  cried  out 
'  Stop  thief,'  as  loud  as  they  could,  springing  over  the  counter, 
and  pursuing  me  as  I  pursued  the  carriage,  which  was  driven 
at  a  rapid  pace. 

A  man  perceiving  me  running,  and  others,  without  their 
hats,  following,  with  the  cries  of  '  Stop  thief,'  put  out  his  leg, 

146 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

and  I  fell  on  the  pavement,  the  blood  rushing  in  torrents  from 
my  nose.      I  was  seized,  roughly  handled,  and  again  handed 


'  /  stood  behind  her,  carefully  examining  them.' 

over  to  the  police,  who  carried  me  before  the  same  magistrate 
in  Marlborough  Street. 

'  What  is  this  ? '  demanded  the  magistrate. 

*  A  shop-lifter,  your  worship.' 

147 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  I  am  not,  sir,'  replied  I  ;  *  you  know  me  well  enough,  I 
am  Mr.  Newland.' 

1  Mr.  Newland  ! '  replied  the  magistrate,  suspiciously  ;  '  this 
is  strange,  a  second  time  to  appear  before  me  upon  such  a 
charge.3 

*  And  just  as  innocent  as  before,  sir.' 

1  You'll  excuse  me,  sir,  but  I  must  have  my  suspicions  this 
time.  Where  is  the  evidence  ? ' 

The  people  of  the  shop  then  came  forward,  and  stated  what 
had  occurred.  '  Let  him  be  searched,'  said  the  magistrate. 

I  was  searched,  but  nothing  was  found  upon  me.  '  Are 
you  satisfied  now,  sir  ? '  inquired  I. 

1  By  no  means.  Let  the  people  go  back  and  look  over 
their  laces,  and  see  if  any  are  missing  ;  in  the  meantime  I 
shall  detain  you,  for  it  is  very  easy  to  get  rid  of  a  small  article, 
such  as  lace,  when  you  are  caught.' 

The  men  went  away,  and  I  wrote  a  note  to  Major  Car- 
bonnell,  requesting  his  attendance.  He  arrived  at  the  same 
time  as  a  shopman,  and  I  told  him  what  had  happened.  The 
shopman  declared  that  the  stock  was  not  correct ;  as  far  as 
they  could  judge,  there  were  two  pieces  of  lace  missing. 

*  If  so,  I  did  not  take  them,'  replied  I. 

'Upon  my  honour,  Mr.  B ,'  said  the  major  to  the 

magistrate,  '  it  is  very  hard  for  a  gentleman  to  be  treated  in 
this  manner.  This  is  the  second  time  that  I  have  been  sent 
for  to  vouch  for  his  respectability.' 

'  Very  true,  sir,'  replied  the  magistrate ;  '  but  allow  me  to 
ask  Mr.  Newland,  as  he  calls  himself,  what  induced  him  to 
follow  a  lady  into  the  shop  ? ' 

'  Her  earrings,'  replied  I. 

*  Her  earrings  !  why,  sir,  the  last  time  you  were  brought 
before  me,  you  said  it  was  after  a  gentleman's  nose — now  it 
appears  you  were  attracted  by  a  lady's  ears ;  and  pray,  sir, 
what  induced  you  to  run  out  of  the  shop  ? ' 

*  Because  I  wanted  particularly  to  inquire  about  her  ear- 
rings, sir.' 

'  I  cannot  understand  these  paltry  excuses ;  there  are,  it 
appears,  two  pieces  of  lace  missing.  I  must  remand  you  for 
further  examination,  sir ;  and  you  also,  sir,'  said  the  magistrate 
to  Major  Carbonnell ;  'for  if  he  is  a  swindler,  you  must  be 
an  accomplice.' 

148 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Sir,'  replied  Major  Carbonnell,  sneeringly,  *  you  are  cer- 
tainly a  very  good  judge  of  a  gentleman,  when  you  happen 
by  accident  to  be  in  his  company.  With  your  leave,  I  will 
send  a  note  to  another  confederate.' 

The  major  then  wrote  a  note  to  Lord  Windermear,  which 
he  despatched  by  Timothy,  who,  hearing  I  was  in  trouble,  had 
accompanied  the  major.  And  while  he  was  away,  the  major 
and  I  sat  down,  he  giving  himself  all  manner  of  airs,  much 
to  the  annoyance  of  the  magistrate,  who  at  last  threatened  to 
commit  him  immediately.  '  You'll  repent  this,'  replied  the 
major,  who  perceived  Lord  Windermear  coming  in. 

'  You  shall  repent  it,  sir,  by  God,'  cried  the  magistrate,  in 
a  great  passion. 

4  Put  five  shillings  in  the  box  for  swearing,  Mr.  B . 

You  fine  other  people,'  said  the  major.  '  Here  is  my  other 
confederate,  Lord  Windermear.' 

*  Carbonnell,'  said  Lord  Windermear,  '  what  is  all  this  ? ' 

*  Nothing,  my  lord,  except  that  our  friend  Newland  is  taken 
up  for  shop-lifting,  because  he  thought  proper  to  run  after  a 
pretty  woman's  carriage  ;  and  I   am  accused  by  his  worship 
of  being  his  confederate.      I    could  forgive  his  suspicions  of 
Mr.  Newland  in  that  plight ;  but  as  for  his  taking  me  for  one 
of  the  swell  mob  it  proves  a  great   deficiency  of  judgment  ; 
perhaps  he  will  commit  your  lordship  also,  as  he  may  not  be 
aware  that  your  lordship's  person  is  above  caption.' 

'  I  can  assure  you,  sir,'  said  Lord  Windermear,  proudly, 
'  that  this  is  my  relative,  Major  Carbonnell,  and  the  other  is 
my  friend,  Mr.  Newland.  I  will  bail  them  for  any  sum  you 
please.' 

The  magistrate  felt  astonished  and  annoyed,  for,  after  all, 
he  had  only  done  his  duty.  Before  he  could  reply,  a  man 
came  from  the  shop  to  say  that  the  laces  had  been  found  all 
right.  Lord  Windermear  then  took  me  aside,  and  I  narrated 
what  had  happened.  He  recollected  the  story  of  Fleta  in  my 
narrative  of  my  life,  and  felt  that  I  was  right  in  trying  to  find 
out  who  the  lady  was.  The  magistrate  now  apologised  for  the 
detention,  but  explained  to  his  lordship  how  I  had  before  made 
my  appearance  upon  another  charge,  and  with  a  low  bow  we 
were  dismissed. 

'  My  dear  Mr.  Newland,'  said  his  lordship,  { I  trust  that 
this  will  be  a  warning  to  you,  not  to  run  after  other  people's 

149 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

noses  and  earrings  ;  at  the  same  time,  I  will  certainly  keep  a 
look  out  for  those  very  earrings  myself.  Major,  I  wish  you 
a  good  morning.' 

His  lordship  then  shook  us  both  by  the  hand,  and  saying 
that  he  should  be  glad  to  see  more  of  me  than  he  latterly  had 
done,  stepped  into  his  carriage  and  drove  off. 

'What  the  devil  did  his  lordship  mean  about  earrings, 
Newland  ? '  inquired  the  major. 

'  I  told  him  that  I  was  examining  the  lady's  earrings  as 
very  remarkable,'  replied  I. 

'You  appear  to  be  able  to  deceive  everybody  but  me, 
my  good  fellow.  I  know  that  you  were  examining  the  lady 
herself.'  I  left  the  major  in  his  error,  by  making  no  reply. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

I  borrow  money  upon  my  estate,  and  upon  very  favourable  terms. 

WHEN  I  came  down  to  breakfast  the  next  morning,  the 
major  said,  '  My  dear  Newland,  I  have  taken  the  liberty  of 
requesting  a  very  old  friend  of  mine  to  come  and  meet  you 
this  morning.  I  will  not  disguise  from  you  that  it  is  Emmanuel, 
the  money-lender.  Money  you  must  have  until  my  affairs  are 
decided,  one  way  or  the  other ;  and,  in  this  instance,  I  will 
most  faithfully  repay  the  sum  borrowed,  as  soon  as  I  receive 
the  amount  of  my  bets,  or  am  certain  of  succeeding  to  the 
title,  which  is  one  and  the  same  thing.' 

I  bit  my  lips,  for  I  was  not  a  little  annoyed  ;  but  what  could 
be  done  ?  I  must  have  either  confessed  my  real  situation  to 
the  major,  or  have  appeared  to  raise  scruples,  which,  as  the 
supposed  heir  to  a  large  fortune,  would  have  appeared  to  him 
to  be  very  frivolous.  I  thought  it  better  to  let  the  affair  take 
its  chance.  '  Well,'  replied  I,  '  if  it  must  be,  it  must  be  ;  but 
it  shall  be  on  my  own  terms.' 

'Nay,'  observed  the  major,  'there  is  no  fear  but  that  he 
will  consent,  and  without  any  trouble.' 

After  a  moment's  reflection  I  went  upstairs  and  rang  for 
Timothy.  '  Tim,'  said  I,  '  hear  me  ;  I  now  make  you  a  solemn 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

promise,  on  my  honour  as  a  gentleman,  that  I  will  never 
borrow  money  upon  interest,  and  until  you  release  me  from 
it,  I  shall  adhere  to  my  word.' 

'  Very  well,  sir,'  replied  Timothy ;  '  I  guess  your  reason 
for  so  doing,  and  I  expect  you  will  keep  your  word.  Is  that 
all  ? ' 

1  Yes  ;  now  you  may  take  up  the  urn.' 

We  had  finished  our  breakfast,  when  Timothy  announced 
Mr.  Emmanuel,  who  followed  him  into  the  room.  *  Well, 
Old  Cent  per  Cent,  how  are  you  ? '  said  the  major.  '  Allow 
me  to  introduce  my  most  particular  friend,  Mr.  Newland.' 

*  Auh  !  Master  Major,'  replied  the  descendant  of  Abraham, 
a  little  puny  creature,  bent  double  with  infirmity,  and  carrying 
one  hand  behind  his  back,  as  if  to  counterbalance  the  projection 
of  his  head  and  shoulders.  'You  vash  please  to  call  me 
Shent  per  Shent.  I  wish  I  vash  able  to  make  de  monies  pay 
that.  Mr.  Newland,  can  I  be  of  any  little  shervice  to  you  ? ; 

'  Sit  down,  sit  down,  Emmanuel.  You  have  my  warrant 
for  Mr.  Newland's  respectability,  and  the  sooner  we  get  over 
the  business  the  better.' 

'Auh,  Mr.  Major,  it  ish  true,  you  was  recommend  many 
good — no,  not  always  good — customers  to  me,  and  I  was  very 
much  obliged.  Vat  can  I  do  for  your  handsome  young  friend  ? 
De  young  gentlemen  always  vant  money ;  and  it  is  de  youth 
which  is  de  time  for  de  pleasure  and  enjoyment.' 

'  He  wants  a  thousand  pounds,  Emmanuel.' 

'  Dat  is  a  large  sum — one  tousand  pounds  !  he  does  not 
vant  any  more  ? ' 

« No,'  replied  I,  <  that  will  be  sufficient.' 

'Vel,  den,  I  have  de  monish  in  my  pocket.  I  will  just 
beg  de  young  gentleman  to  sign  a  little  memorandum,  dat  I 
may  von  day  receive  my  monish.' 

'  But  what  is  that  to  be  ?'  interrupted  I. 

'  It  will  be  to  promise  to  pay  me  my  monish  and  only 
fifteen  per  shent,  when  you  come  into  your  own.' 

'  That  will  not  do,'  replied  I  ;  '  I  have  pledged  my  solemn 
word  of  honour,  that  I  will  not  borrow  money  on  interest.' 

'  And  you  have  given  de  pledge,  but  you  did  not  swear 
upon  de  book  ?  ' 

'  No,  but  my  word  has  been  given,  and  that  is  enough  ;  if 
I  would  forfeit  my  word  with  those  to  whom  I  have  given  it, 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  would  also  forfeit  my  word  with  you.  My  keeping  my 
promise,  ought  to  be  a  pledge  to  you  that  I  will  keep  my 
promise  to  you.' 

'  Dat  is  veil  said — very  veil  said ;  but  den  we  must 
manage  some  oder  way.  Suppose — let  me  shee — how  old 
are  you,  my  young  sir  ? ' 

'  Past  twenty.' 

'Auh,  dat  is  a  very  pleasant  age,  dat  twenty.  Veil,  den, 
you  shall  shign  a  leetle  bit  of  paper,  that  you  pay  me  ^2000 
ven  you  come  into  your  properties,  on  condition  dat  I  pay 
now  one  tousand.  Dat  is  very  fair — ish  it  not,  Mr.  Major  ? ' 

1  Rather  too  hard,  Emmanuel.' 

'  But  de  rishque — de  rishque,  Mr.  Major.' 

'  I  will  not  agree  to  those  terms,'  replied  I  ;  '  you  must 
take  your  money  away,  Mr.  Emmanuel.' 

'  Veil,  den — vat  vill  you  pay  me  ? ' 

'I  will  sign  an  agreement  to  pay  you  ^1500  for  the 
thousand,  if  you  please ;  if  that  will  not  suit  you,  I  will  try 
elsewhere." 

'  Dat  is  very  bad  bargain.     How  old,  you  shay  ? ' 

1  Twenty.' 

'Veil,  I  shuppose  I  must  oblige  you,  and  my  very  goot 
friend,  de  major.' 

Mr.  Emmanuel  drew  out  his  spectacles,  pen,  and  ink-horn, 
filled  up  a  bond,  and  handed  it  to  me  to  sign.  I  read  it 
carefully  over,  and  signed  it ;  he  then  paid  down  the  money, 
and  took  his  leave. 

It  may  appear  strange  to  the  reader  that  the  money  was 
obtained  so  easily,  but  he  must  remember  that  the  major  was 
considered  a  person  who  universally  attached  himself  to  young 
men  of  large  fortune ;  he  had  already  been  the  means  of 
throwing  many  profitable  speculations  into  the  hands  of 
Emmanuel,  and  the  latter  put  implicit  confidence  in  him. 
The  money-lenders  also  are  always  on  the  look-out  for  young 
men  with  large  fortunes,  and  have  their  names  registered. 
Emmanuel  had  long  expected  me  to  come  to  him ;  and 
although  it  was  his  intention  to  have  examined  more  particu- 
larly, and  not  to  have  had  the  money  prepared,  yet  my  refusal 
to  sign  the  bond,  bearing  interest,  and  my  disputing  the  terms 
of  the  second  proposal,  blinded  him  completely,  and  put  him 
off  his  usual  guard. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  Upon  my  word,  Newland,  you  obtained  better  terms  than 
I  could  have  expected  from  the  old  Hunks.' 

'  Much  better  than  I  expected  also,  major,'  replied  I  ;  'but 
now,  how  much  of  the  money  would  you  like  to  have  ? ' 

'  My  dear  fellow,  this  is  very  handsome  of  you ;  but,  I 
thank  Heaven,  I  shall  be  soon  able  to  repay  it ;  but  what 
pleases  me,  Newland,  is  your  perfect  confidence  in  one  whom 
the  rest  of  the  world  would  not  trust  with  a  shilling.  I  will 
accept  your  offer  as  freely  as  it  is  made,  and  take  ^500,  just 
to  make  a  show  for  the  few  weeks  that  I  am  in  suspense, 
and  then  you  will  find,  that,  with  all  my  faults,  I  am  not 
deficient  in  gratitude.'  I  divided  the  money  with  the  major, 
and  he  shortly  afterwards  went  out. 

'Well,  sir,'  said  Timothy,  entering,  full  of  curiosity,  'what 
have  you  done  ? ' 

*  I  have  borrowed  a  thousand  to  pay  fifteen  hundred  when 
I  come  into  my  property.' 

'  You  are  safe  then.      Excellent,  and  the  Jew  will  be  bit.' 
'  No,  Timothy,  I  intend  to  repay  it  as  soon  as  I  can.' 
'  I  should  like  to  know  when  that  will  be.' 

*  So  should   I,  Tim,  for  it  must  depend  upon  my  finding 
out   my  parentage.'     Heigho,  thought    I,  when   shall    I   ever 
find  out  who  is  my  father  ? 


CHAPTER   XXX 

The  major  is  very  fortunate  and  very  unfortunate — He  receives  a  large 
sum  in  gold  and  one  ounce  of  lead. 

I  DRESSED  and  went  out,  met  Harcourt,  dined  with  him,  and 
on  my  return  the  major  had  not  come  home.  It  was  then 
past  midnight,  and  feeling  little  inclination  to  sleep,  I  remained 
in  the  drawing-room,  waiting  for  his  arrival.  About  three 
o'clock  he  came  in,  flushed  in  the  face,  and  apparently  in  high 
good  humour. 

*  Newland,'  said  he,  throwing  his  pocket-book  on  the 
table,  'just  open  that,  and  then  you  will  open  your  eyes.' 

I  obeyed  him,  and  to  my  surprise  took  out  a  bundle  of 

153 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

bank-notes  ;  I  counted  up  their  value,  and  they  amounted  to 

;£35°°- 

'  You  have  been  fortunate,  indeed.' 

'  Yes,'  replied  the  major ;  '  knowing  that  in  a  short  time  I 
shall  be  certain  of  cash,  one  way  or  the  other,  I  had  resolved 
to  try  my  luck  with  the  ^500.  I  went  to  the  hazard  table, 
and  threw  in  seventeen  times — hedged  upon  the  deuce  ace, 
and  threw  out  with  it — voila.  They  won't  catch  me  there 
again  in  a  hurry — luck  like  that  only  comes  once  in  a  man's 
life ;  but,  Japhet,  there  is  a  little  drawback  to  all  this.  I 
shall  require  your  kind  attendance  in  two  or  three  hours.' 

'  Why,  what's  the  matter  ? ' 

*  Merely  an  affair  of  honour.  I  was  insulted  by  a  vagabond, 
and  we  meet  at  six  o'clock.' 

'A  vagabond — but  surely,  Carbonnell,  you  will  not  con- 
descend  ' 

'  My  dear  fellow,  although  as  great  a  vagabond  as  there  is 
on  the  face  of  the  earth,  yet  he  is  a  peer  of  the  realm,  and  his 
title  warrants  the  meeting — but,  after  all,  what  is  it  ? ' 

'  I  trust  it  .will  be  nothing,  Carbonnell,  but  still  it  may  prove 
otherwise.' 

'  Granted  ;  and  what  then,  my  dear  Newland  ?  we  all  owe 
Heaven  a  death,  and  if  I  am  floored,  why  then  I  shall  no 
longer  be  anxious  about  title  or  fortune.' 

'  It's  a  bad  way  of  settling  a  dispute,'  replied  I,  gravely. 

'There  is  no  other,  Newland.  How  would  society  be 
held  in  check  if  it  were  not  for  duelling  ?  We  should  all  be  a 
set  of  bears  living  in  a  bear-garden.  I  presume  you  have 
never  been  out  ? ' 

'Never,'  replied  I,  'and  had  hoped  that  I  never  should 
have.' 

'  Then  you  must  have  better  fortune,  or  better  temper  than 
most  others,  if  you  pass  through  life  without  an  affair  of  this 
kind  on  your  hands.  I  mean  as  principal,  not  as  second. 
But,  my  dear  fellow,  I  must  give  you  a  little  advice,  relative 
to  your  behaviour  as  a  second ;  for  I'm  very  particular  on 
these  occasions,  and  like  that  things  should  be  done  very 
correctly.  It  will  never  do,  my  dear  Newland,  that  you 
appear  on  the  ground  with  that  melancholy  face.  I  do  not 
mean  that  you  should  laugh,  or  even  smile,  that  would  be 
equally  out  of  character,  but  you  should  show  yourself  perfectly 

154 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

calm  and  indifferent.  In  your  behaviour  towards  the  other 
second,  you  must  be  most  scrupulously  polite,  but,  at  the  same 
time,  never  give  up  a  point  of  dispute,  in  which  my  interest 
may  be  concerned.  Even  in  your  walk  be  slow,  and  move, 
as  much  as  the  ground  will  allow  you,  as  if  you  were  in  a 
drawing-room.  Never  remain  silent;  offer  even  trivial 
remarks,  rather  than  appear  distrait.  There  is  one  point  of 
great  importance — I  refer  to  choosing  the  ground,  in  which, 
perhaps,  you  will  require  my  unperceived  assistance.  Any 
decided  line  behind  me  would  be  very  advantageous  to  my 
adversary,  such  as  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  post,  etc.  ;  even  an 
elevated  light  or  dark  ground  behind  me  is  unadvisable. 
Choose,  if  you  can,  a  broken  light,  as  it  affects  the  correctness 
of  the  aim ;  but  as  you  will  not  probably  be  able  to  manage 
this  satisfactorily,  I  will  assist  you.  When  on  the  ground, 
after  having  divided  the  sun  fairly  between  us,  I  will  walk 
about  unconcernedly,  and  when  I  perceive  a  judicious  spot,  I 
will  take  a  pinch  of  snuff  and  use  my  handkerchief,  turning  at 
the  same  time  in  the  direction  in  which  I  wish  my  adversary 
to  be  placed.  Take  your  cue  from  that,  and  with  all  suavity 
of  manner,  insist  as  much  as  you  can  upon  our  being  so  placed. 
That  must  be  left  to  your  own  persuasive  powers.  I  believe  I 
have  now  stated  all  that  is  necessary,  and  I  must  prepare  my 
instruments.' 

The  major  then  went  into  his  own  room,  and  I  never  felt 
more  nervous  or  more  unhinged  than  after  this  conversation. 
I  had  a  melancholy  foreboding — but  that  I  believe  every  one 
has,  when  he,  for  the  first  time,  has  to  assist  at  a  mortal 
rencontre.  I  was  in  a  deep  musing  when  he  returned  with 
his  pistols  and  all  the  necessary  apparatus ;  and  when  the 
major  pointed  out  to  me,  and  made  me  once  or  twice  practise 
the  setting  of  the  hair  triggers,  which  is  the  duty  of  the 
second,  an  involuntary  shudder  came  over  me. 

*  Why,  Newland,  what  is  the  matter  with  you  ?     I  thought 
that  you  had  more  nerve.' 

*  I    probably   should   show   more,   Carbonnell,  were    I    the 
principal   instead   of  the  second,  but    I    cannot  bear  the   re- 
flection that  some  accident  should  happen  to  you.     You  are 
the  only  one  with  whom  I  have  been  on  terms  of  friendship, 
and  the  idea  of  losing  you  is  very,  very  painful.' 

'  Newland,  you  really  quite  unman  me,  and  you  may  now 

155 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

see  a  miracle,'  continued  Carbonnell,  as  he  pressed  his  hand 
to  his  eye,  '  the  moisture  of  a  tear  on  the  cheek  of  a  London 
roue,  a  man  of  the  world,  who  has  long  lived  for  himself  and 
for  this  world  only.  It  never  would  be  credited  if  asserted. 
Newland,  there  was  a  time  when  I  was  like  yourself — the 
world  took  advantage  of  my  ingenuousness  and  inexperience  ; 
my  good  feelings  were  the  cause  of  my  ruin,  and  then,  by 
degrees,  I  became  as  callous  and  as  hardened  as  the  world 
itself.  My  dear  fellow,  I  thought  all  affection,  all  sentiment, 
dried  up  within  me,  but  it  is  not  the  case.  You  have  made 
me  feel  that  I  have  still  a  heart,  and  that  I  can  love  you. 
But  this  is  all  romance,  and  not  fitted  for  the  present  time. 
It  is  now  five  o'clock,  let  us  be  on  the  ground  early — it  will 
give  us  an  advantage.' 

*  I  do  not  much  like  speaking  to  you  on  the  subject, 
Carbonnell ;  but  is  there  nothing  that  you  might  wish  done  in 
case  of  accident  ? ' 

'  Nothing — why  yes.  I  may  as  well.  Give  me  a  sheet  of 
paper.'  The  major  sat  down  and  wrote  for  a  few  minutes. 
'  Now,  send  Timothy  and  another  here.  Timothy,  and  you, 
sir,  see  me  sign  this  paper,  and  put  my  seal  to  it.  I  deliver 
this  as  my  act  and  deed.  Put  your  names  as  witnesses.' 
They  complied  with  his  request,  and  then  the  major  desired 
Timothy  to  call  a  hackney-coach.  *  Newland,'  said  the  major, 
putting  the  paper,  folded  up,  in  my  pocket,  along  with  the 
bank  notes,  '  take  care  of  this  for  me  till  we  come  back.' 

'  The  coach  is  at  the  door,  sir,'  said  Timothy,  looking  at 
me,  as  if  to  say,  *  What  can  all  this  be  about  ? ' 

'  You  may  come  with  us  and  see,'  said  the  major,  observing 
Tim's  countenance,  'and  put  that  case  into  the  coach.'  Tim, 
who  knew  that  it  was  the  major's  case  of  pistols,  appeared 
still  more  alarmed,  and  stood  still  without  obeying  the  order. 
'  Never  mind,  Tim,  your  master  is  not  the  one  who  is  to  use 
them,'  said  the  major,  patting  him  on  the  shoulder. 

Timothy,  relieved  by  this  intelligence,  went  downstairs 
with  the  pistols  ;  we  followed  him.  Tim  mounted  on  the  box, 
and  we  drove  to  Chalk  Farm.  *  Shall  the  coach  wait  ? ' 
inquired  Timothy. 

'  Yes,  by  all  means,'  replied  I,  in  a  low  voice.  We  arrived 
at  the  usual  ground,  where  disputes  of  this  kind  were  generally 
settled  ;  and  the  major  took  a  survey  of  it  with  great  composure. 

156 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Now  observe,  Japhet,'  said  he,  '  if  you  can  contrive ; 

but  here  they  are.  I  will  give  you  the  notice  agreed  upon.' 
The  peer,  whose  title  was  Lord  Tineholme,  now  came  up  with 
his  second,  whom  he  introduced  to  me  as  Mr.  Osborn.  '  Mr. 
Newland,'  replied  the  major,  saluting  Mr.  Osborn  in  return. 
We  both  took  off  our  hats,  bowed,  and  then  proceeded  to  our 
duty.  I  must  do  my  adversary's  second  the  justice  to  say, 
that  his  politeness  was  fully  equal  to  mine.  There  was  no 
mention,  on  either  side,  of  explanations  and  retractions — the 
insult  was  too  gross,  and  the  character  of  his  lordship,  as  well 


'  /  requested  Mr.  Osborn  to  drop  the  handkerchief.' 

as  that  of  Major  Carbonnell,  was  too  well  known.  Twelve 
paces  were  proposed  by  Mr.  Osborn,  and  agreed  to  by  me — 
the  pistols  of  Mr.  Carbonnell  were  gained  by  drawing  lots — 
we  had  nothing  more  to  do  but  to  place  our  principals.  The 
major  took  out  his  snuff-box,  took  a  pinch,  and  blew  his  nose, 
turning  towards  a  copse  of  beech  trees. 

'  With  your  permission,  I  will  mark  out  the  ground,  Mr. 
Osborn,'  said  I,  walking  up  to  the  major,  and  intending  to  pace 
twelve  paces  in  the  direction  towards  which  he  faced. 

'Allow  me  to  observe  that  I  think  a  little  more  in  this 
direction  would  be  more  fair  for  both  parties,'  said  Mr.  Osborn, 

157 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  It  would  so,  my  dear  sir,'  replied  I  ;  { but,  submitting  to 
your  superior  judgment,  perhaps  it  may  not  have  struck  you 
that  my  principal  will  have  rather  too  much  of  the  sun.  I  am 
incapable  of  taking  any  advantage,  but  I  should  not  do  my 
duty  if  I  did  not  see  every  justice  done  to  the  major,  who  has 
confided  to  me  in  this  unpleasant  affair.  I  put  it  to  you,  sir, 
as  a  gentleman  and  man  of  honour,  whether  I  am  claiming 
too  much  ? '  A  little  amicable  altercation  took  place  on  this 
point ;  but  finding  that  I  would  not  yield,  and  at  every  reply  I 
was  more  and  more  polite  and  bland  in  my  deportment,  Mr. 
Osborn  gave  up  the  point.  I  walked  the  twelve  paces,  and  Mr. 
Osborn  placed  his  principal.  I  observed  that  Lord  Tineholme 
did  not  appear  pleased ;  he  expostulated  with  him,  but  it  was 
then  too  late.  The  pistols  had  been  already  loaded — the 
choice  was  given  to  his  lordship,  and  Major  Carbonnell 
received  the  other  from  my  hand,  which  actually  trembled, 
while  his  was  firm.  I  requested  Mr.  Osborn  to  drop  the 
handkerchief,  as  I  could  not  make  up  my  mind  to  give  a 
signal  which  might  be  fatal  to  the  major.  They  fired — Lord 
Tineholme  fell  immediately — the  major  remained  on  his  feet 
for  a  second  or  two,  and  then  sank  down  on  the  ground.  I 
hastened  up  to  him.  '  Where  are  you  hurt  ? ' 

The  major  put  his  hand  to  his  hip — '  I  am  hit  hard, 
Newland,  but  not  so  hard  as  he  is.  Run  and  see.' 

I  left  the  major,  and  went  up  to  where  Lord  Tineholme 
lay,  his  head  raised  on  the  knee  of  his  second. 

'  It  is  all  over  with  him,  Mr.  Newland,  the  ball  has  passed 
through  his  brain.' 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

The  major  pays  the  only  debt  of  consequence  he  ever  did  pay,  and  I  find 
myself  a  man  of  property. 

I  HASTENED  back  to  the  major,  to  examine  his  wound,  and, 
with  the  assistance  of  Timothy,  I  stripped  him  sufficiently  to 
ascertain  that  the  ball  had  entered  his  hip,  and  probing  the 
wound  with  my  finger,  it  appeared  that  it  had  glanced  off  in 
the  direction  of  the  intestines  ;  the  suffusion  of  blood  was  very 
trifling,  which  alarmed  me  still  more. 

158 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Could  you  bear  removal,  major,  in  the  coach  ? ' 

'  I  cannot  tell,  but  we  must  try  :  the  sooner  I  am  home  the 
better,  Japhet,'  replied  he,  faintly. 

With  the  assistance  of  Timothy,  I  put  him  into  the 
hackney-coach,  and  we  drove  off,  after  I  had  taken  off  my  hat 
and  made  my  obeisance  to  Mr.  Osborn,  an  effort  of  politeness 
which  I  certainly  should  have  neglected,  had  I  not  been 
reminded  of  it  by  my  principal.  We  set  off,  and  the  major 
bore  his  journey  very  well,  making  no  complaint ;  but  on  our 
arrival  he  fainted  as  we  lifted  him  out.  As  soon  as  he  was  on 
the  bed,  I  despatched  Timothy  for  a  surgeon.  On  his  arrival 
he  examined  the  wound,  and  shook  his  head.  Taking  me 
into  the  next  room,  he  declared  his  opinion,  that  the  ball  had 
passed  into  the  intestines,  which  were  severed,  and  that  there 
was  no  hope.  I  sat  down  and  covered  up  my  face — the  tears 
rolled  down  and  trickled  through  my  fingers — it  was  the  first 
heavy  blow  I  had  yet  received.  Without  kindred  or  con- 
nections, I  felt  that  I  was  about  to  lose  one  who  was  dear  to 
me.  To  another,  not  in  my  situation,  it  might  have  only 
produced  a  temporary  grief  at  the  near  loss  of  a  friend ;  but 
to  me,  who  was  almost  alone  in  the  world,  the  loss  was  heavy 
in  the  extreme.  Whom  had  I  to  fly  to  for  solace  ? — there 
were  Timothy  and  Fleta — one  who  performed  the  duty  of  a 
servant  to  me,  and  a  child.  I  felt  that  they  were  not 
sufficient,  and  my  heart  was  chilled. 

The  surgeon  had,  in  the  meantime,  returned  to  the  major, 
and  dressed  the  wound.  The  major,  who  had  recovered  from 
his  weakness,  asked  him  his  candid  opinion.  '  We  must  hope 
for  the  best,  sir/  replied  the  surgeon. 

'  That  is  to  say,  there  is  no  hope,'  replied  the  major ;  *  and 
I  feel  that  you  are  right.  How  long  do  you  think  that  I  may 
live?' 

*  If  the  wound  does  not  take  a  favourable  turn,  about  forty- 
eighty  hours,  sir,'  replied  the  surgeon :  '  but  we  must  hope  for 
a  more  fortunate  issue.' 

'  In  a  death-bed  case  you  medical  men  are  like  lawyers,' 
replied  the  major,  '  there  is  no  getting  a  straightforward  answer 
from  you.  Where  is  Mr.  Newland  ? ' 

'Here  I  am,  Carbonnell,'  said  I,  taking  his  hand. 

*  My  dear  fellow,  I  know  it  is  all  over  with  me,  and  you, 
of  course,  know  it  as  well  as  I  do.     Do  not  think  that  it  is  a 

159 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

source  of  much  regret  to  me  to  leave  this  rascally  world — 
indeed  it  is  not ;  but  I  do  feel  sorry,  very  sorry,  to  leave  you. 
The  doctor  tells  me  I  shall  live  forty -eight  hours ;  but  I 
have  an  idea  that  I  shall  not  live  so  many  minutes.  I  feel 
my  strength  gradually  failing  me.  Depend  upon  it,  my  dear 
Newland,  there  is  an  internal  hemorrhage.  My  dear  fellow, 
I  shall  not  be  able  to  speak  soon.  I  have  left  you  my  executor 
and  sole  heir.  I  wish  there  was  more  for  you — it  will  last 
you,  however,  till  you  come  of  age.  That  was  a  lucky  hit 
last  night,  but  a  very  unlucky  one  this  morning.  Bury  me 
like  a  gentleman.' 

'  My  dear  Carbonnell,'  said  I,  '  would  you  not  like  to  see 
somebody — a  clergyman  ? ' 

'  Newland,  excuse  me.  I  do  not  refuse  it  out  of  disrespect, 
or  because  I  do  not  believe  in  the  tenets  of  Christianity ;  but 
I  cannot  believe  that  my  repentance  at  this  late  hour  can  be 
of  any  avail.  If  I  have  not  been  sorry  for  the  life  I  have  lived 
— if  I  have  not  had  my  moments  of  remorse — if  I  have  not 
promised  to  amend,  and  intended  to  have  so  done,  and  I  trust 
I  have — what  avails  my  repentance  now?  No,  no,  Japhet, 
as  I  have  sown  so  must  I  reap,  and  trust  to  the  mercy  of 
Heaven.  God  only  knows  all  our  hearts  ;  and  I  would  fain 
believe  that  I  may  find  more  favour  in  the  eyes  of  the  Almighty, 

than  I  have  in  this  world  from  those  who but  we  must  not 

judge.  Give  me  to  drink,  Japhet — I  am  sinking  fast.  God 
bless  you,  my  dear  fellow.' 

The  major  sank  on  his  pillow,  after  he  had  moistened  his 
lips,  and  spoke  no  more.  With  his  hand  clasped  in  mine  he 
gradually  sank,  and  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour  his  eyes  were  fixed, 
and  all  was  over.  He  was  right  in  his  conjectures — an  artery 
had  been  divided,  and  he  had  bled  to  death.  The  surgeon 
came  again  just  before  he  was  dead,  for  I  had  sent  for  him. 
1  It  is  better  as  it  is,'  said  he  to  me.  '  Had  he  not  bled  to 
death,  he  would  have  suffered  forty -eight  hours  of  extreme 
agony  from  the  mortification  which  must  have  ensued.'  He 
closed  the  major's  eyes  and  took  his  leave,  and  I  hastened 
into  the  drawing-room  and  sent  for  Timothy,  with  whom  I  sate 
in  a  long  conversation  on  this  unfortunate  occurrence,  and  my 
future  prospects. 

My  grief  for  the  death  of  the  major  was  sincere ;  much 
may  indeed  be  ascribed  to  habit,  from  our  long  residence  and 

160 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

companionship  ;  but  more  to  the  knowledge  that  the  major, 
with  all  his  faults,  had  redeeming  qualities,  and  that  the  world 
had  driven  him  to  become  what  he  had  been.  I  had  the 
further  conviction,  that  he  was  attached  to  me,  and,  in  my 
situation,  anything  like  affection  was  most  precious.  His 
funeral  was  handsome,  without  being  ostentatious,  and  I  paid 
every  demand  upon  him  which  I  knew  to  be  just — many, 
indeed,  that  were  not  sent  in,  from  a  supposition  that  any 
claim  made  would  be  useless.  His  debts  were  not  much 


'  With  /n's  hand  clasped  in  mine  he  gradually  san/,:' 

above  ^200,  and  these  debts  had  never  been  expected  to  be 
liquidated  by  those  who  had  given  him  credit.  The  paper  he 
had  written,  and  had  been  witnessed  by  Timothy  and  another, 
was  a  short  will,  in  which  he  left  me  his  sole  heir  and  executor. 
The  whole  of  his  property  consisted  of  his  house  in  St.  James's 
Street,  the  contents  of  his  pocket-book  intrusted  to  my  care, 
and  his  personal  effects,  which,  especially  in  bijouterie,  were 
valuable.  The  house  was  worth  about  ^4000,  as  he  had  told 
me.  In  his  pocket-book  were  notes  to  the  amount  of  ^3500, 
and  his  other  effects  might  be  valued  at  ^400.  With  all 
M  161 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

his  debts  and  funeral  expenses  liquidated,  and  with  my  own 
money,  I  found  myself  in  possession  of  about  ^8000 — a  sum 
which  never  could  have  been  credited,  for  it  was  generally 
supposed  that  he  died  worth  less  than  nothing,  having  lived 
for  a  long  while  upon  a  capital  of  a  similar  value. 

*  I  cannot  but  say,'  observed  Timothy,  '  but  that  this  is 
very  fortunate.  Had  the  major  not  persuaded  you  to  borrow 
money,  he  never  would  have  won  so  large  a  sum.  Had  he 
lived  he  would  have  squandered  it  away ;  but  just  in  the  nick 
of  time  he  is  killed,  and  makes  you  his  heir.3 

1  There  is  truth  in  your  observation,  Timothy  ;  but  now 
you  must  go  to  Mr.  Emmanuel,  that  I  may  pay  him  off.  I 
will  repay  the  ^1000  lent  me  by  Lord  Windermear  into  his 
banker's,  and  then  I  must  execute  one  part  of  the  poor  major's 
will.  He  left  his  diamond  solitaire  as  a  memento  to  his  lord- 
ship. Bring  it  to  me,  and  I  will  call  and  present  it.' 


CHAPTER   XXXII 

A  chapter  full  of  morality,  which  ends  in  a  Jew  refusing  upwards  of  ^1000, 
proving  the  millennium  to  be  nearly  at  hand. 

THIS  conversation  took  place  the  day  after  the  funeral,  and, 
attired  in  deep  mourning,  I  called  upon  his  lordship,  and  was 
admitted.  His  lordship  had  sent  his  carriage  to  attend  the 
funeral,  and  was  also  in  mourning  when  he  received  me.  I 
executed  my  commission,  and  after  a  long  conversation  with 
his  lordship,  in  which  I  confided  to  him  the  contents  of  the 
will,  and  the  amount  of  property  of  the  deceased,  I  rose  to 
take  my  leave. 

'Excuse  me,  Mr.  Newland,'  said  he,  'but  what  do  you 
now  propose  to  do  ?  I  confess  I  feel  a  strong  interest  about 
you,  and  had  wished  that  you  had  come  to  me  oftener  without 
an  invitation.  I  perceive  that  you  never  will.  Have  you  no 
intention  of  following  up  any  pursuit  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  my  lord,  I  intend  to  search  after  my  father ;  and  I 
trust  that,  by  husbanding  my  unexpected  resources,  I  shall 
now  be  able.' 

162 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  You  have  the  credit,  in  the  fashionable  world,  of  possessing 
a  large  fortune.' 

'  That  is  not  my  fault,  my  lord  :  it  is  through  Major 
Carbonnell's  mistake  that  the  world  is  deceived.  Still  I  must 
acknowledge  myself  so  far  participator,  that  I  have  never 
contradicted  the  report.' 

'  Meaning,  I  presume,  by  some  good  match,  to  reap  the 
advantage  of  the  supposition.' 

*  Not    so,    my    lord,    I    assure   you.      People    may    deceive 
themselves,  but  I  will  not  deceive  them.' 

1  Nor  undeceive  them,  Mr.  Newland  ? ' 

'  Undeceive  them  I  will  not ;  nay,  if  I  did  make  the 
attempt,  I  should  not  be  believed.  They  never  would  believe 
it  possible  that  I  could  have  lived  so  long  with  your  relative, 
without  having  had  a  large  supply  of  money.  They  might 
believe  that  I  had  run  through  my  money,  but  not  that  I  never 
had  any.' 

'  There  is  a  knowledge  of  the  world  in  that  remark,'  replied 
his  lordship  ;  * but  I  interrupted  you,  so  proceed.' 

*  I  mean  to  observe,  my  lord,  and  you,  by  your  knowledge 
of  my  previous  history,  can  best  judge  how  far  I  am  warranted 
in  saying   so,  that  I  have  as  yet   steered   the  middle  course 
between   that  which   is  dishonest   and  honest.      If  the  world 
deceives  itself,  you  would  say  that,  in  strict  honesty,  I  ought 
to  undeceive  it.      So  I  would,  my  lord,  if  it  were  not  for  my 
peculiar  situation  ;  but  at  the  same  time  I  never  will,  if  possible, 
be  guilty  of  direct  deceit ;  that  is  to  say,   I  would  not   take 
advantage  of  my  supposed  wealth,  to  marry  a  young  person 
of  large  fortune.      I  would  state  myself  a  beggar,  and  gain  her 
affections  as  a  beggar.     A  woman  can  have  little  confidence 
in  a  man  who  deceives  her  before  marriage.' 

*  Your  secret  will  always  be  safe  with  me,  Mr.  Newland  ; 
you  have   a   right    to   demand   it.      I    am   glad    to    hear  the 
sentiments  which  you  have  expressed  ;  they  are  not  founded, 
perhaps,  upon  the  strictest  code  of  morality ;   but   there  are 
many  who  profess  more  who  do  not  act  up  to  so  much.      Still, 
I  wish  you  would  think  in  what  way  I  may  be  able  to  serve 
you,  for  your  life  at  present  is  useless  and  unprofitable,  and 
may  tend   to  warp  still  more,    ideas  which   are  not  quite  so 
strict  as  they  ought  to  be.' 

'  My  lord,  I  have  but  one  object  in  allowing  the  world  to 

163 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

continue  in  their  error  relative  to  my  means,  which  is,  that  it 
procures  for  me  an  entrance  into  that  society  in  wnich  I  have 
a  moral  conviction  that  I  shall  find  my  father.  I  have  but 
one  pursuit,  one  end  to  attain,  which  is,  to  succeed  in  that 
search.  I  return  you  a  thousand  thanks  for  your  kind  ex- 
pressions and  good  will ;  but  I  cannot,  at  present,  avail  myself 
of  them.  I  beg  your  lordship's  pardon,  but  did  you  ever 
meet  the  lady  with  the  earrings  ? ' 

Lord  Windermear  smiled.  '  Really,  Mr.  Newland,  you 
are  a  very  strange  person  ;  not  content  with  finding  out  your 
own  parents,  you  must  also  be  searching  after  other  people's  ; 
not  that  I  do  not  commend  your  conduct  in  this  instance ;  but 
I'm  afraid,  in  running  after  shadows,  you  are  too  indifferent 
to  the  substance.' 

1  Ah,  my  lord  !  it  is  very  well  for  you  to  argue  who  have  had 
a  father  and  mother,  and  never  felt  the  want  of  them  ;  but  if 
you  knew  how  my  heart  yearns  after  my  parents,  you  would 
not  be  surprised  at  my  perseverance.' 

*  I  am  surprised  at  nothing  in  this  world,  Mr.   Newland  ; 
every  one  pursues  happiness  in  his  own  way ;  your  happiness 
appears  to  be  centred  in  one  feeling,  and  you  are  only  acting 
as  the  world  does  in  general ;   but  recollect  that  the  search 
after  happiness  ends  in  disappointment.' 

*  I    grant    it    but    too   often    does,  my  lord ;    but   there   is 
pleasure  in  the  chase,'  replied  I. 

'  Well,  go,  and  may  you  prosper.  All  I  can  say  is  this, 
Mr.  Newland ;  do  not  have  that  false  pride  not  to  apply  to 
me  when  you  need  assistance.  Recollect,  it  is  much  better 
to  be  under  an  obligation,  if  such  you  will  consider  it,  than  to 
do  that  which  is  wrong ;  and  that  it  is  a  very  false  pride 
which  would  blush  to  accept  a  favour,  and  yet  not  blush  to  do 
what  it  ought  to  be  ashamed  of.  Promise  me,  Mr.  Newland, 
that  upon  any  reverse  or  exigence,  you  will  apply  to  me.' 

'  I  candidly  acknowledge  to  your  lordship,  that  I  would 
rather  be  under  an  obligation  to  any  one  but  you  ;  and  I  trust 
you  will  clearly  appreciate  my  feelings.  I  have  taken  the 
liberty  of  refunding  the  one  thousand  pounds  you  were  so  kind 
as  to  place  at  my  disposal  as  a  loan.  At  the  same  time  I 
will  promise,  that  if  at  any  time  I  should  require  your  assist- 
ance, I  will  again  request  leave  to  become  your  debtor.'  I 
rose  again  to  depart. 

164 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  Farewell,  Newland ;  when  I  thought  you  had  behaved  ill, 
and    I  offered  to  better  you,  you   only   demanded   my  good 
opinion ;  you  have  it,  and  have  it  so  firmly,  that  it  will  not 
easily  be  shaken.'     His  lordship  then  shook  hands  with  me, 
and  I  took  my  leave. 

On  my  return  I  found  Emmanuel,  the  money-lender,  who 
had  accompanied  Timothy,  fancying  that  I  was  in  want  of 
more  assistance,  and  but  too  willing  to  give  it.  His  surprise 
was  very  great  when  I  told  him  that  I  wished  to  repay  the 
money  I  had  borrowed. 

1  Veil,  dis  is  very  strange !  I  have  lent  my  monish  a 
tousand  times,  and  never  once  they  did  offer  it  me  back. 
Veil,  I  will  take  it,  sar.' 

*  But  how  much  must  I  give  you,  Mr.  Emmanuel,  for  the 
ten  days'  loan  ? ' 

'  How  moch — vy  you  remember,  you  vill  give  de  bond 
money — de  fifteen  hundred.' 

'  What !  five  hundred  pounds  interest  for  ten  days,  Mr. 
Emmanuel ;  no,  no,  that's  rather  too  bad.  I  will,  if  you 
please,  pay  you  back  eleven  hundred  pounds,  and  that  I  think 
is  very  handsome.' 

*  I  don't  want  my  monish,  my  good  sar.      I  lend  you  one 
tousand  pounds,    on   de   condition    that  you  pay   me   fifteen 
hundred  when  you  come  into  your  properties,  which  will  be 
in  very  short  time.     You  send  for  me,  and  tell  me  you  vish  to 
pay  back  de  monish  directly ;  I  never  refuse  monish — if  you 
wish  to  pay,  I  will  take,  but  I  will  not  take  von  farding  less 
dan  de  monish  on  de  bond.' 

*  Very  well,  Mr.  Emmanuel,  just  as  you  please ;  I  offer  you 
your  money  back,  in  presence  of  my  servant,  and  one  hundred 
pounds  for  the  loan  of  it  for  ten  days.      Refuse  it  if  you  choose, 
but  I  earnestly  recommend  you  to  take  it.' 

'  I  will  not  have  de  monish,  sar ;  dis  is  de  child's  play,' 
replied  the  Jew.  '  I  must  have  my  fifteen  hundred — all  in 
goot  time,  sar — I  am  in  no  hurry — I  vish  you  a  very  good 
morning,  Mr.  Newland.  Ven  you  vish  for  more  monish  to 
borrow,  I  shall  be  happy  to  pay  my  respects.'  So  saying, 
the  Jew  walked  out  of  the  room,  with  his  arm  behind  his  back 
as  usual. 


165 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 

I  decide  upon  honesty  as  the  best  policy,  and  what  is  more  strange, 
receive  legal  advice  upon  this  important  point. 

TIMOTHY  and  I  burst  into  laughter.  'Really,  Timothy,' 
observed  I,  'it  appears  that  very  little  art  is  necessary  to 
deceive  the  world,  for  in  every  instance  they  will  deceive 
themselves.  The  Jew  is  off  my  conscience,  at  all  events,  and 
now  he  never  will  be  paid,  until ' 

'  Until  when,  Japhet  ?  ' 

'  Until  I  find  out  my  father,'  replied  I. 

'Everything  is  put  off  till  that  time  arrives,  I  observe,' 
said  Timothy.  *  Other  people  will  soon  be  as  interested  in 
the  search  as  yourself.' 

'  I  wish  they  were ;  unfortunately  it  is  a  secret,  which 
cannot  be  divulged.' 

A  ring  at  the  bell  called  Timothy  downstairs  ;  he  returned 
with  a  letter;  it  was  from  Lord  Windermear,  and  ran  as 
follows  : — 

'  MY  DEAR  NEWLAND — I  have  been  thinking  about  you 
ever  since  you  left  me  this  morning,  and  as  you  appear  re- 
solved to  prosecute  your  search,  it  has  occurred  to  me  that 
you  should  go  about  it  in  a  more  systematic  way.  I  do  not 
mean  to  say  that  what  I  now  propose  will  prove  of  any 
advantage  to  you,  but  still  it  may,  as  you  will  have  a  very  old 
and  very  clever  head  to  advise  with.  I  refer  to  Mr.  Master- 
ton,  my  legal  adviser,  from  whom  you  had  the  papers  which 
led  to  our  first  acquaintance.  He  is  aware  that  you  were  (I 
beg  your  pardon)  an  impostor,  as  he  has  since  seen  Mr. 
Estcourt.  The  letter  enclosed  is  for  him,  and  with  that  in 
your  hand  you  may  face  him  boldly,  and  I  have  no  doubt  but 
that  he  will  assist  you  all  in  his  power,  and  put  you  to  no 
expense.  Narrate  your  whole  history  to  him,  and  then  you 
will  hear  what  he  may  propose.  He  has  many  secrets,  much 
more  important  than  yours.  Wishing  you  every  success  that 
your  perseverance  deserves,  Believe  me, 

'  Yours  very  truly, 

'  WINDERMEAR.' 
166 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  I  believe  the  advice  to  be  good/  said  I,  after  reading  the 
letter.      '  I  am  myself  at  fault,  and  hardly  know  how  to  pro- 
ceed.    I  think  I  will  go  at  once  to  the  old  gentleman,  Timothy.' 

'  It  can  do  no  harm,  if  it  does  no  good.  Two  heads  are 
better  than  one,'  replied  Timothy.  '  Some  secrets  are  too 
well  kept,  and  deserting  a  child  is  one  of  those  which  is 
confided  but  to  few.' 

1  By  the  bye,  Timothy,  here  have  I  been,  more  than  so  many 
years  out  of  the  Foundling  Hospital,  and  have  never  yet 
inquired  if  any  one  has  ever  been  to  reclaim  me.' 

'  Very  true  ;  and  I  think  I'll  step  myself  to  the  workhouse, 
at  St.  Bridget's,  and  ask  whether  any  one  has  asked  about 
me,'  replied  Timothy,  with  a  grin. 

'There  is  another  thing  that  I  have  neglected,'  observed 
I,  'which  is,  to  inquire  at  the  address  in  Coleman  Street,  if 
there  is  any  letter  from  Melchior.' 

'  I  have  often  thought  of  him,'  replied  Timothy.  '  I  wonder 
who  he  can  be — there  is  another  mystery  there.  I  wonder 
whether  we  shall  ever  fall  in  with  him  again — and  Nattee  too  ? ' 

'There's  no  saying,  Timothy.  I  wonder  where  that  poor 
fool,  Philotas,  and  our  friend  Jumbo,  are  now  ? ' 

The  remembrance  of  the  two  last  personages  made  us 
both  burst  out  a  laughing. 

*  Timothy,  I've  been  reflecting  that  my  intimacy  with  poor 
Carbonnell  has  rather  hindered  than  assisted  me  in  my  search. 
He  found  me  with  a  good  appearance,  and  he  has  moulded 
me  into  a  gentleman,  so  far  as  manners  and  appearance  are 
concerned ;  but   the   constant  vortex   in   which    I    have   been 
whirled  in  his  company  has  prevented  me  from  doing  anything. 
His  melancholy  death  has  perhaps  been  fortunate  for  me.      It 
has  left  me  more  independent  in  circumstances,  and  more  free. 
I  must  now  really  set  to  in  earnest.' 

'  I  beg  your  pardon,  Japhet,  but  did  not  you  say  the  same 
when  we  first  set  off  on  our  travels,  and  yet  remain  more  than 
a  year  with  the  gipsies  ?  Did  not  you  make  the  same  resolu- 
tion when  we  arrived  in  town,  with  our  pockets  full  of  money, 
and  yet,  once  into  fashionable  society,  think  but  little,  and 
occasionally,  of  it  ?  Now  you  make  the  same  resolution,  and 
how  long  will  you  keep  it  ? ' 

*  Nay,  Timothy,  that  remark  is  hardly  fair ;  you  know  that 
the  subject  is  ever  in  my  thoughts.' 

167 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  In  your  thoughts,  I  grant,  very  frequently  ;  but  you  have 
still  been  led  away  from  the  search.' 

'  I  grant  it,  but  I  presume  that  arises  from  not  knowing 
how  to  proceed.  I  have  a  skein  to  unravel,  and  cannot  find 
out  an  end  to  commence  with.' 

'  I  always  thought  people  commenced  with  the  beginning/ 
replied  Tim,  laughing. 

'  At  all  events,  I  will  now  try  back,  and  face  the  old  lawyer. 
Do  you  call  at  Coleman  Street,  Tim,  and  at  St.  Bridget's  also, 
if  you  please.' 

'  As  for  St.  Bridget's,  I'm  in  no  particular  hurry  about  my 
mother ;  if  I  stumble  upon  her  I  may  pick  her  up,  but  I  never 
make  diligent  search  after  what,  in  every  probability,  will  not 
be  worth  the  finding.' 

Leaving  Timothy  to  go  his  way,  I  walked  to  the  house  at 
Lincoln's  Inn,  which  I  had  before  entered  upon  the  memorable 
occasion  of  the  papers  of  Estcourt.  As  before,  I  rang  the 
bell,  the  door  swang  open,  and  I  was  once  more  in  the 
presence  of  Mr.  Masterton. 

'  I  have  a  letter,  sir,'  said  I,  bowing,  and  presenting  the 
letter  from  Lord  Windermear. 

The  old  gentleman  peered  at  me  through  his  spectacles. 
'  Why  !  we  have  met  before — bless  me — why,  you're  the  rogue 
that — 

'You  are  perfectly  right,  sir,'  interrupted  I.  'I  am  the 
rogue  who  presented  the  letter  from  Lord  Windermear,  and 
who  presents  you  with  another  from  the  same  person  ;  do  me 
the  favour  to  read  it,  while  I  take  a  chair.' 

'  Upon  my  soul — you  impudent — handsome  dog,  I  must 
say — great  pity — come  for  money,  I  suppose.  Well,  it's  a 
sad  world,'  muttered  the  lawyer  as  he  broke  open  the  letter  of 
Lord  Windermear. 

I  made  no  reply,  but  watched  his  countenance,  which 
changed  to  that  of  an  expression  of  surprise.  'Had  his 
lordship  sent  me  a  request  to  have  you  hanged,  if  possible,' 
said  Mr.  Masterton,  '  I  should  have  felt  no  surprise  ;  but  in 
this  letter  he  praises  you,  and  desires  me  to  render  you  all  the 
service  in  my  power.  I  can't  understand  it.' 

'  No,  sir ;  but  if  you  have  leisure  to  listen  to  me,  you  will 
then  find  that,  in  this  world,  we  may  be  deceived  by 
appearances.' 

168 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Well,  and  so  I  was,  when  I  first  saw  you ;  I  never  could 
have  believed  you  to  be — but  never  mind.' 

*  Perhaps,  sir,  in  an  hour  or  two  you  will  again  alter  your 
opinion.  Are  you  at  leisure,  or  will  you  make  an  appointment 
for  some  future  day  ? ' 

'Mr.  Newland,  I  am  not  at  leisure — I  never  was  more 
busy ;  and  if  you  had  come  on  any  legal  business,  I  should 
have  put  you  off  for  three  or  four  days,  at  least ;  but  my 
curiosity  is  so  raised,  that  I  am  determined  that  I  will  indulge 
it  at  the  expense  of  my  interest.  I  will  turn  the  key,  and  then 
you  will  oblige  me  by  unravelling  what,  at  present,  is  to  me 
as  curious  as  it  is  wholly  incomprehensible.' 


CHAPTER   XXXIV 

I  attempt  to  profit  by  intelligence  I  receive,  and  throw  a  lady 
into  hysterics. 

IN  about  three  hours  I  had  narrated  the  history  of  my  life,  up 
to  the  very  day,  almost  as  much  detailed  as  it  has  been  to  the 
reader.  'And  now,  Mr.  Masterton,'  said  I,  as  I  wound  up 
my  narrative,  '  do  you  think  that  I  deserve  the  title  of  rogue, 
which  you  applied  to  me  when  I  came  in  ? ' 

'  Upon  my  word,  Mr.  Newland,  I  hardly  know  what  to 
say ;  but  I  like  to  tell  the  truth.  To  say  that  you  have  been 
quite  honest,  would  not  be  correct — a  rogue,  to  a  certain 
degree,  you  have  been,  but  you  have  been  the  rogue  of 
circumstances.  I  can  only  say  this,  that  there  are  greater  rogues 
than  you,  whose  characters  are  unblemished  in  the  world — that 
most  people  in  your  peculiar  situation  would  have  been  much 
greater  rogues  ;  and,  lastly,  that  rogue  or  not  rogue,  I  have 
great  pleasure  in  taking  you  by  the  hand,  and  will  do  all  I 
possibly  can  to  serve  you — and  that  for  your  own  sake.  Your 
search  after  your  parents  I  consider  almost  tantamount  to 
a  wild-goose  chase ;  but  still,  as  your  happiness  depends  upon 
it,  I  suppose  it  must  be  carried  on  ;  but  you  must  allow  me 
time  for  reflection.  I  will  consider  what  may  be  the  most 
judicious  method  of  proceeding.  Can  you  dine  tete-a-tete  with 
me  here  on  Friday,  and  we  then  will  talk  over  the  matter  ? ' 

169 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  On  Friday,  sir ;  I  am  afraid  that  I  am  engaged  to  Lady 
Maelstrom ;  but  that  is  of  no  consequence — I  will  write  an 
excuse  to  her  ladyship.' 

*  Lady  Maelstrom  !  how  very  odd  that  you  should  bring  up 
her  name  after  our  conversation.' 

*  Why  so,  my  dear  sir  ? ' 

*  Why  ! '    replied    Mr.    Masterton,    chuckling  ;    «  because — 
recollect,    it   is    a   secret,    Mr.    Newland — I    remember   some 
twenty  years  ago,  when  she  was  a  girl  of  eighteen,  before  she 
married,  she  had  a  little  faux  pas,  and  I  was  called  in  about 
a  settlement,  for  the  maintenance  of  the  child.' 

'  Is  it  possible,  sir  ?'  replied  I,  anxiously. 

'  Yes,  she  was  violently  attached  to  a  young  officer,  without 
money,  but  of  good  family  ;  some  say  it  was  a  private  marriage, 
others,  that  he  was — a  rascal.  It  was  all  hushed  up ;  but  he 
was  obliged  by  the  friends,  before  he  left  for  the  West  Indies, 
to  sign  a  deed  of  maintenance,  and  I  was  the  party  called  in. 
I  never  heard  any  more  about  it.  The  officer's  name  was 
Warrender :  he  died  of  the  yellow  fever,  I  believe,  and  after 
his  death  she  married  Lord  Maelstrom.' 

'  He  is  dead,  then  ?  '  replied  I,  mournfully. 

*  Well,  that  cannot  affect  you,  my  good  fellow.     On  Friday, 
then,  at  six  o'clock  precisely.     Good  afternoon,  Mr.  Newland.' 

I  shook  hands  with  the  old  gentleman,  and  returned  home, 
but  my  brain  whirled  with  the  fear  of  a  confirmation  of  that 
which  Mr.  Masterton  had  so  carelessly  conveyed.  Anything 
like  a  possibility,  immediately  was  swelled  to  a  certainty  in 
my  imagination,  so  ardent  and  heated  on  the  one  subject ; 
and  as  soon  as  I  regained  my  room,  I  threw  myself  on  the 
sofa,  and  fell  into  a  deep  reverie.  I  tried  to  approximate  the 
features  of  Lady  Maelstrom  to  mine,  but  all  the  ingenuity  in 
the  world  could  not  effect  that ;  but  still,  I  might  be  like  my 
father — but  my  father  was  dead,  and  that  threw  a  chill  over 
the  whole  glowing  picture  which  I  had,  as  usual,  conjured  up  ; 
besides,  it  was  asserted  that  I  was  born  in  wedlock,  and  there 
was  a  doubt  relative  to  the  marriage  of  her  ladyship. 

After  a  long  cogitation  I  jumped  up,  seized  my  hat,  and  set 
off  for  Grosvenor  Square,  determining  to  ask  a  private  inter- 
view with  her  ladyship,  and  at  once  end  my  harassing  doubts 
and  surmises.  I  think  there  could  not  be  a  greater  proof  of 
my  madness  than  my  venturing  to  attack  a  lady  of  forty  upon 

170 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

the  irregularities  of  her  youth,  and  to  question  her  upon  a 
subject  which  had  been  confided  but  to  two  or  three,  and  she 
imagined  had  been  long  forgotten  :  but  this  never  struck  me  ; 


1 1 'was  ushered  into  the  drawing-room.' 
Copyright  1894  by  Macmillan  &•  Co. 

all  considerations  were  levelled  in  my  ardent  pursuit.  I 
walked  through  the  streets  at  a  rapid  pace,  the  crowd  passed 
by  me  as  shadows,  I  neither  saw  nor  distinguished  them  ;  I 

171 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

was  deep  in  reverie  as  to  the  best  way  of  breaking  the  subject 
to  her  ladyship,  for,  notwithstanding  my  monomania,  I 
perceived  it  to  be  a  point  of  great  delicacy.  After  having 
overturned  about  twenty  people  in  my  mad  career,  I  arrived 
at  the  door  and  knocked.  My  heart  beat  almost  as  hard 
against  my  ribs  with  excitement. 

'  Is  her  ladyship  at  home  ? ' 

1  Yes,  sir.' 

I  was  ushered  into  the  drawing-room,  and  found  her  sitting 
with  two  of  her  nieces,  the  Misses  Fairfax. 

'  Mr.  Newland,  you  have  been  quite  a  stranger,'  said  her 
ladyship,  as  I  walked  up  to  her  and  made  my  obeisance.  '  I 
did  intend  to  scold  you  well ;  but  I  suppose  that  sad  affair 
of  poor  Major  Carbonnell's  has  been  a  heavy  blow  to  you — 
you  were  so  intimate — lived  together,  I  believe,  did  you  not  ? 
However,  you  have  not  so  much  cause  to  regret,  for  he  was 
not  a  very  proper  companion  for  young  men  like  you  :  to 
tell  you  the  truth,  I  consider  it  as  a  fortunate  circumstance 
that  he  was  removed,  for  he  would,  by  degrees,  have  led  you 
into  all  manner  of  mischief,  and  have  persuaded  you  to 
squander  your  fortune.  I  did  at  one  time  think  of  giving 
you  a  hint,  but  it  was  a  delicate  point.  Now  that  he  is 
gone,  I  tell  you  very  candidly  that  you  have  had  an  escape. 
A  young  man  like  you,  Mr.  Newland,  who  could  command 
an  alliance  into  the  highest,  yes,  the  very  highest  families — 
and  let  me  tell  you,  Mr.  Newland,  that  there  is  nothing  like 
connection — money  is  of  no  consequence  to  you,  but  con- 
nection, Mr.  Newland,  is  what  you  should  look  for — connection 
with  some  high  family,  and  then  you  will  do  well.  I  should 
like  to  see  you  settled — well  settled,  I  mean,  Mr.  Newland. 
Now  that  you  are  rid  of  the  major,  who  has  ruined  many 
young  men  in  his  time,  I  trust  you  will  seriously  think  of 
settling  down  into  a  married  man.  Cecilia,  my  dear,  show 
your  tambour  work  to  Mr.  Newland,  and  ask  him  his  opinion. 
Is  it  not  beautiful,  Mr.  Newland  ?  ' 

*  Extremely  beautiful,  indeed,  ma'am,'  replied  I,  glad  at 
last  that  her  ladyship  allowed  me  to  speak  a  word. 

'Emma,  my  dear,  you  look  pale,  you  must  go  out  into 
the  air.  Go,  children,  put  your  bonnets  on  and  take  a  turn 
in  the  garden  ;  when  the  carriage  comes  round  I  will  send 
for  you.' 

172 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

The  young  ladies  quitted  the  room.  '  Nice  innocent  girls, 
Mr.  Newland  ;  but  you  are  not  partial  to  blondes,  I  believe  ? ' 

'  Indeed,  Lady  Maelstrom,  I  infinitely  prefer  the  blonde 
to  the  brunette.' 

*  That  proves  your  taste,    Mr.   Newland.     The   Fairfaxes 
are  of  a  very  old  family — Saxon,  Mr.   Newland.     Fairfax  is 
Saxon  for  light  hair.      Is  it  not  remarkable  that  they  should 
be  blondes  to  this  day?     Pure  blood,   Mr.   Newland.     You, 
of  course,   have    heard    of   General    Fairfax   in   the    time   of 
Cromwell.      He  was  their  direct  ancestor — an  excellent  family 
and  highly  connected,    Mr.    Newland.     You   are   aware   that 
they  are  my  nieces.      My  sister  married  Mr.  Fairfax.' 

I  paid  the  Misses  Fairfax  the  compliments  which  I  thought 
they  really  deserved,  for  they  were  very  pretty  amiable  girls, 
and  required  no  puffing  on  the  part  of  her  ladyship ;  and 
then  I  commenced.  *  Your  ladyship  has  expressed  such  kind 
wishes  towards  me,  that  I  cannot  be  sufficiently  grateful ; 
but,  perhaps  your  ladyship  may  think  me  romantic,  I  am 
resolved  never  to  marry,  except  for  love.' 

'  A  very  excellent  resolve,  Mr.  Newland  ;  there  are  few 
young  men  who  care  about  love  nowadays,  but  I  consider  that 
love  is  a  great  security  for  happiness  in  the  wedded  state.' 

'True,  madam,  and  what  can  be  more  delightful  than  a 
first  attachment  ?  I  appeal  to  your  ladyship,  was  not  your 
first  attachment  the  most  delightful — are  not  the  reminiscences 
most  lasting — do  you  not,  even  now,  call  to  mind  those 
halcyon  days  when  love  was  all  and  everything  ? ' 

*  My  days  of  romance  are  long  past,  Mr.  Newland,'  replied 
her  ladyship ;    '  indeed    I   never    had   much   romance   in   my 
composition.      I  married  Lord  Maelstrom  for  the  connection, 
and  I  loved  him  pretty  well,  that  is,  soberly,   Mr.   Newland. 
I  mean,  I  loved  him  quite  enough  to  marry  him,  and  to  obey 
my  parents,  that  is  all.' 

*  But,  my  dear  Lady  Maelstrom,   I  did  not  refer  to  your 
marriage  with  his  lordship  ;  I  referred  to  your  first  love.' 

'  My  first  love,  Mr.  Newland  ;  pray  what  do  you  mean  ? ' 
replied  her  ladyship,  looking  very  hard  at  me. 

'Your  ladyship  need  not  be  ashamed  of  it.  Our  hearts 
are  not  in  our  own  keeping,  nor  can  we  always  control  our 
passions.  I  have  but  to  mention  the  name  of  Warrender.' 

'  Warrender  \ }   shrieked  her  ladyship.      '  Pray,   Mr.    New- 

173 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

land,'  continued  her  ladyship,  recovering  herself,  '  who  gave 
you  that  piece  of  information  ? ' 

'  My  dear  Lady  Maelstrom,  pray  do  not  be  displeased 
with  me,  but  I  am  very  particularly  interested  in  this  affair. 
Your  love  for  Mr.  Warrender,  long  before  your  marriage,  is 
well  known  to  me  ;  and  it  is  to  that  love,  to  which  I  referred, 
when  I  asked  you  if  it  was  not  most  delightful.' 

'Well,  Mr.  Newland,'  replied  her  ladyship,  'how  you 
have  obtained  the  knowledge  I  know  not,  but  there  was,  I 
acknowledge,  a  trifling  flirtation  with  Edward  Warrender  and 
me — but  I  was  young,  very  young  at  that  time.' 

'  I  grant  it ;  and  do  not,  for  a  moment,  imagine  that  I 
intend  to  blame  your  ladyship  ;  but,  as  I  before  said,  madam, 
I  am  much  interested  in  the  business.' 

'What  interest  can  you  have  with  a  little  flirtation  of 
mine,  which  took  place  before  you  were  born,  I  cannot  imagine, 
Mr.  Newland.' 

'  It  is  because  it  took  place  before  I  was  born,  that  I  feel 
so  much  interest.' 

'  I  cannot  understand  you,  Mr.  Newland,  and  I  think  we 
had  better  change  the  subject.' 

'  Excuse  me,  madam,  but  I  must  request  to  continue  it  a 
little  longer.  Is  Mr.  Warrender  dead  or  not  ?  Did  he  die 
in  the  West  Indies  ? ' 

'  You  appear  to  be  very  curious  on  the  subject,  Mr.  New- 
land  ;  I  hardly  can  tell.  Yes,  now  I  recollect,  he  did  die  of 
the  yellow  fever,  I  think — but  I  have  quite  forgotten  all 
about  it — and  I  shall  answer  no  more  questions  ;  if  you  were 
not  a  favourite  of  mine,  Mr.  Newland,  I  should  say  that  you 
were  very  impertinent.' 

'Then,  your  ladyship,  I  will  put  but  one  more  question, 
and  that  one  I  must  put  with  your  permission.' 

*  I  should  think,  after  what  I  have  said,  Mr.  Newland, 
that  you  might  drop  the  subject.' 

'  I  will,  your  ladyship,  immediately ;  but  pardon  me  the 
question ' 

'Well,  Mr.  Newland ?' 

'  Do  not  be  angry  with  me 


'  Well  ?  '  exclaimed  her  ladyship,  who  appeared  alarmed. 
'  Nothing  but  the  most  important  and  imperative  reasons 
could    induce  me  to  ask  the  question'  (her  ladyship  gasped 

174 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

for  breath,  and  could  not  speak) — I  stammered,  but  at  last 
I  brought  it  out.  'What  has  become  of — of — of  the  sweet 
pledge  of  your  love,  Lady  Maelstrom  ? ' 

Her  ladyship  coloured  up  with  rage,  raised  up  her  clenched 
hand,  and  then  fell  back  in  violent  hysterics. 


CHAPTER   XXXV 

I  repair  the  damage,  and  make  things  worse — Plot  and  counterplot — Tim 
gains  a  watch  by  setting  watch  upon  his  tongue. 

I  HARDLY  knew  how  to  act — if  I  called  the  servants,  my 
interview  would  be  at  an  end,  and  I  was  resolved  to  find  out 
the  truth — for  the  same  reason,  I  did  not  like  to  ring  for 
water.  Some  vases  with  flowers  were  on  the  table  ;  I  took 
out  the  flowers,  and  threw  the  water  in  her  face,  but  they 
had  been  in  the  water  some  time,  and  had  discoloured  it  green. 
Her  ladyship's  dress  was  a  high  silk  gown,  of  a  bright  slate 
colour,  and  was  immediately  spoiled  ;  but  this  was  no  time 
to  stand  upon  trifles.  I  seized  hold  of  a  glass  bottle,  fancying, 
in  my  hurry,  it  was  eau  de  cologne,  or  some  essence,  and 
poured  a  little  into  her  mouth  ;  unfortunately,  it  was  a  bottle 
of  marking  ink,  which  her  ladyship,  who  was  very  economical, 
had  on  the  table  in  disguise.  I  perceived  my  error,  and  had 
recourse  to  another  vase  of  flowers,  pouring  a  large  quantity 
of  the  green  water  down  her  throat.  Whether  the  unusual 
remedies  had  an  effect,  or  not,  I  cannot  tell,  but  her  ladyship 
gradually  revived,  and,  as  she  leant  back  on  the  sofa,  sobbing 
every  now  and  then,  convulsively,  I  poured  into  her  ear  a 
thousand  apologies,  until  I  thought  she  was  composed  enough 
to  listen  to  me. 

4  Your  ladyship's  maternal  feelings,'  said  I. 

4  It's  all  a  calumny  !  a  base  lie,  sir !'  shrieked  she. 

4  Nay,  nay,  why  be  ashamed  of  a  youthful  passion  ;  why 
deny  what  was  in  itself  creditable  to  your  unsophisticated 
mind.  Does  not  your  heart,  even  now,  yearn  to  embrace 
your  son — will  not  you  bless  me,  if  I  bring  him  to  your  feet — 
will  not  you  bless  your  son,  and  receive  him  with  delight  ?' 

4  It  was  a  girl,3  screamed  her  ladyship,  forgetting  herself, 
and  again  falling  into  hysterics. 

V  175 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'A  girl!'  replied  I  ;  'then  I  have  lost  my  time,  and  it  is 
no  use  my  remaining  here.' 

Mortified  at  the  intelligence  which  overthrew  my  hopes 
and  castle  buildings,  I  seized  my  hat,  descended  the  stairs, 
and  quitted  the  house ;  in  my  hurry  and  confusion  quite 
forgetting  to  call  the  servants  to  her  ladyship's  assistance. 
Fortunately  I  perceived  the  Misses  Fairfax  close  to  the  iron 
railing  of  the  garden.  I  crossed  the  road,  wished  them  good- 
bye, and  told  them  that  I  thought  Lady  Maelstrom  looked  very 
ill,  and  they  had  better  go  in  to  her.  I  then  threw  myself  into 
the  first  hackney-coach,  and  drove  home.  I  found  Timothy 
had  arrived  before  me,  and  I  narrated  all  that  had  passed. 

'You  will  never  be  able  to  go  there  again,'  observed 
Timothy,  '  and  depend  upon  it,  she  will  be  your  enemy 
through  life.  I  wish  you  had  not  said  anything  to  her.' 

'  What  is  done  cannot  be  undone  ;  but  recollect,  that  if 
she  can  talk,  I  can  talk  also.' 

'  Will  she  not  be  afraid  ?' 

'  Yes,  openly,  she  will ;  and  open  attacks  can  be  parried. ' 

'  Very  true. ' 

'  But  it  will  be  as  well  to  pacify  her,  if  I  can.  I  will  write 
to  her.'  I  sat  down  and  wrote  as  follows  : — 

'  MY  DEAR  LADY  MAELSTROM — I  am  so  astonished  and 
alarmed  at  the  situation  I  put  you  in,  by  my  impertinence  and 
folly,  that  I  hardly  know  how  to  apologise.  The  fact  is,  that 
looking  over  some  of  my  father's  old  letters,  I  found  many 
from  Warrender,  in  which  he  spoke  of  an  affair  with  a  young 
lady,  and  I  read  the  name  as  your  maiden  name,  and  also 
discovered  where  the  offspring  was  to  be  found.  On  re- 
examination,  for  your  innocence  was  too  evident  at  our 
meeting  to  admit  of  a  doubt,  I  find  that  the  name,  although 
something  like  yours,  is  spelt  'very  differently,  and  that  I  must 
have  been  led  into  an  unpardonable  error.  What  can  I  say 
except  that  I  throw  myself  on  your  mercy  ?  I  dare  not 
appear  before  you  again.  I  leave  town  to-morrow  ;  but  if  you 
can  pardon  my  folly  and  impertinence,  and  allow  me  to  pay 
my  respects  when  London  is  full  again,  and  time  shall  have 
softened  down  your  just  anger,  write  me  one  line  to  that 
effect,  and  you  will  relieve  the  burdened  conscience  of  yours 
most  truly,  J.  NEWLAND.' 

176 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'There,  Tim,'  said  I,  as  I  finished  reading  it  over,  'take 
that  as  a  sop  to  the  old  Cerberus.  She  may  think  it  prudent, 
as  I  have  talked  of  letters,  to  believe  me  and  make  friends. 
I  will  not  trust  her,  nevertheless.' 

Tim  went  away,  and  very  soon  returned  with  an  answer. 

1  You  are  a  foolish  mad-cap,  and  I  ought  to  shut  my  doors 
against  you  ;  you  have  half  killed  me — spoilt  my  gown,  and  I 
am  obliged  to  keep  my  bed.  Remember,  in  future,  to  be  sure 
of  the  right  name  before  you  make  an  assertion.  As  for  for- 
giving you,  I  shall  think  of  it,  and  when  you  return  to  town, 
you  may  call  and  receive  my  sentence.  Cecilia  was  quite 
frightened,  poor  dear  girl  :  what  a  dear  affectionate  child  she 
is  ! — she  is  a  treasure  to  me,  and  I  don't  think  I  ever  could 
part  with  her.  She  sends  her  regards. 

'  Yours, 

*  C.  MAELSTROM.' 

'  Come,  Timothy,  at  all  events  this  is  better  than  I  ex- 
pected— but  now  I'll  tell  you  what  I  propose  to  do.  Har- 
court  was  with  me  yesterday,  and  he  wishes  me  to  go  down 

with  him  to  .  There  will  be  the  assizes,  and  the 

county  ball,  and  a  great  deal  of  gaiety,  and  I  have  an  idea 
that  it  is  just  as  well  to  beat  the  county  as  the  town.  I  dine 
with  Mr.  Masterton  on  Friday.  On  Saturday  I  will  go  down 
and  see  Fleta,  and  on  Tuesday  or  Wednesday  I  will  start  with 
Harcourt  to  his  father's,  where  he  has  promised  me  a  hearty 
welcome.  Was  there  anything  at  Coleman  Street  ?' 

'  Yes,  sir  ;  Mr.  Iving  said  that  he  had  just  received  a  letter 
from  your  correspondent,  and  that  he  wished  to  know  if  the 
little  girl  was  well  ;  I  told  him  that  she  was.  Mr.  Iving  laid 
the  letter  down  on  the  desk,  and  I  read  the  postmark,  Dublin.' 

'Dublin,'  replied  I.  'I  should  like  to  find  out  who 
Melchior  is — and  so  I  will  as  soon  as  I  can.' 

'  Well,  sir,  I  have  not  finished  my  story.  Mr.  Iving  said, 
"  My  correspondent  wishes  to  know  whether  the  education  of 
the  little  girl  is  attended  to  ?"  "  Yes, "  replied  I,  "  it  is. "  "  Is 
she  at  school  ?"  "  Yes,  she  has  been  at  school  ever  since  we 
have  been  in  London."  "  Where  is  she  at  school  ?"  inquired 
he.  Now,  sir,  as  I  never  was  asked  that  question  by  him 
before,  I  did  not  know  whether  I  ought  to  give  an  answer,  so 
I  replied,  "  that  I  did  not  know. "  "  You  know  whether  she  is 
N  177 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

in  London  or  not,  do  you  not  ?"  "  How  should  I  ?"  replied  I  ; 
"  master  had  put  her  to  school  before  I  put  on  his  liveries. " 
"  Does  he  never  go  to  see  her  ?"  inquired  he.  "  I  suppose  so," 
said  I.  "  Then  you  really  know  nothing  about  it  ? — then  look 
you,  my  lad,  I  am  anxious  to  find  out  where  she  is  at  school, 
and  the  name  of  the  people,  and  if  you  will  find  out  the 
direction  for  me,  it  will  be  money  in  your  pocket,  that's  all. " 
"  Um, "  replied  I,  "  but  how  much  ?"  "  Why,  more  than  you 
think  for,  my  man,  it  will  be  a  ten-pound  note."  "  That  alters 
the  case, "  replied  I  ;  "  now  I  think  again,  I  have  an  idea  that 
I  do  remember  seeing  her  address  on  a  letter  my  master 
wrote  to  her. "  "  Ay, "  replied  Mr.  Iving,  "  it's  astonishing  how 
money  sharpens  the  memory.  I'll  keep  to  my  bargain  ;  give 
me  the  address,  and  here's  the  ten-pound  note."  "  I'm  afraid 
that  my  master  will  be  angry, "  said  I,  as  if  I  did  not  much 
like  to  tell  him.  "  Your  master  will  never  know  anything 
about  it,  and  you  may  serve  a  long  time  before  he  gives  you  a 
ten-pound  note  above  your  wages. "  "  That's  very  true, "  said 
I,  "  sarvice  is  no  inheritance.  Well,  then,  give  me  the  money, 
and  I'll  write  it  down. "  ' 

*  And  did  you  give  it  ?'  interrupted  I. 

*  Stop  a  moment,  sir,  and  you  shall  hear.      I   wrote  down 
the  address  of  that  large  school  at  Kensington,  which  we  pass 
when  we  go  to  Mr.  Aubrey  White's. ' 

'  What,  that  tremendous  large  board  with  yellow  letters — 
Mrs.  Let — what  is  it  ?' 

'  Mrs.  Lipscombe's  seminary — I  always  read  the  board 
every  time  I  go  up  and  down.  I  gave  him  the  address,  Miss 
Johnson,  at  Mrs.  Lipscombe's  seminary,  Kensington.  Well — 
and  here's  the  ten-pound  note,  sir,  which  I  have  fairly  earned. ' 

'  Fairly  earned,  Tim  ?' 

'  Yes,  fairly  earned  ;  for  it's  all  fair  to  cheat  those  who 
would  cheat  you.' 

'  I  cannot  altogether  agree  with  you  on  that  point,  Tim, 
but  it  certainly  is  no  more  than  they  deserve  ;  but  this  is 
matter  for  reflection.  Why  should  Melchior  wish  to  find  out 
her  address  without  my  knowledge  ? — depend  upon  it,  there  is 
something  wrong.' 

'  That's  what  I  said  to  myself  coming  home  ;  and  I  made 
up  my  mind,  that,  for  some  reason  or  another,  he  wishes  to 
regain  possession  of  her. ' 

I78 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  I  entertain  the  same  idea,  Timothy,  and  I  am  glad  you 
have  disappointed  him.  I  will  take  care  that  they  shall  not 
find  her  out,  now  that  I  am  upon  my  guard.' 

'  But,  sir,  I  wish  to  draw  one  good  moral  from  this  circum- 
stance ;  which  is,  that  if  you  had  been  served  by  any  common 
footman,  your  interest  would,  in  all  probability,  have  been 
sacrificed  to  the  ten-pound  note  ;  and  that  not  only  in  this 
instance,  but  in  many  others,  I  did  a  very  wise  thing  in  taking 
my  present  situation.' 

1 1  am  but  too  well  aware  of  that,  Tim,  my  dear  fellow, ' 
said  I,  extending  my  hand,  '  and  depend  upon  it,  that  if  I 
rise,  you  do.  You  know  me  well  enough  by  this  time. ' 

*  Yes,  I  do,  Japhet,  and  had  rather  serve  you  than  the  first 
nobleman  in  the  land.  I'm  going  to  purchase  a  watch  with 
this  ten-pound  note,  and  I  never  shall  look  at  it  without 
remembering  the  advantage  of  keeping  a  watch  over  my 
tongue.' 


CHAPTER   XXXVI 

I  fall  very  much  in  love  with  honesty,  because  I  find  that  it  is  well  received 
in  the  world — and  to  prove  my  honesty,  inform  the  whole  world  that 
honest  I  have  never  been. 

I  PROVED  the  will  of  Major  Carbonnell,  in  which  there  was  no 
difficulty  ;  and  then  I  sat  down  to  consider  in  what  way  I  might 
best  husband  my  resources.  The  house  was  in  good  repair, 
and  well  furnished.  At  the  time  that  I  lived  with  the  major,  we 
had  our  drawing-room,  and  his  bed-room,  and  another  room 
equally  large,  used  as  his  dressing-room,  on  the  first  floor. 
The  second  floor  was  appropriated  to  me,  and  the  sitting- 
room  was  used  as  a  dining-room  when  we  dined  at  home, 
which  was  but  seldom.  The  basement  was  let  as  a  shop,  at 
one  hundred  pounds  per  annum,  but  we  had  a  private  door 
for  entrance,  and  the  kitchens  and  attics.  I  resolved  to 
retain  only  the  first  floor,  and  let  the  remainder  of  the  house  ; 
and  I  -very  soon  got  a  tenant  at  sixty  pounds  per  annum. 
The  attics  were  appropriated  to  Timothy  and  the  servants 
belonging  to  the  lodger. 

179 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

After  having  disposed  of  what  was  of  no  service  to  me,  I 
found  that,  deducting  the  thousand  pounds  paid  into  the 
banker's,  for  Lord  Windermear,  I  had  a  little  above  three 
thousand  pounds  in  ready  money,  and  what  to  do  with  this  I 
could  not  well  decide.  I  applied  to  Mr.  Masterton,  stating 
the  exact  amount  of  my  finances,  on  the  day  that  I  dined 
with  him,  and  he  replied,  'You  have  two  good  tenants, 
bringing  you  in  one  hundred  and  sixty  pounds  per  annum — 
if  this  money  is  put  out  on  mortgage,  I  can  procure  you  five 
per  cent,  which  will  be  one  hundred  and  fifty  pounds  per 
annum.  Now,  the  question  is,  do  you  think  that  you  can  live 
upon  three  hundred  and  ten  pounds  per  annum  ?  You  have 
no  rent  to  pay ;  and  I  should  think  that,  as  you  are  not  at 
any  great  expense  for  a  servant,  you  might,  with  economy,  do 
very  well.  Recollect,  that  if  your  money  is  lent  on  mortgage 
you  will  not  be  able  to  obtain  it  at  a  moment's  warning.  So 
reflect  well  before  you  decide.' 

I  consulted  with  Timothy,  and  agreed  to  lend  the  money, 
reserving  about  two  hundred  pounds  to  go  on  with,  until  I 
should  receive  my  rents  and  interest.  On  the  Friday  I  went 
to  dine  with  Mr.  Masterton,  and  narrated  what  had  passed 
between  me  and  Lady  Maelstrom.  He  was  very  much  diverted, 
and  laughed  immoderately.  '  Upon  my  faith,  Mr.  Newland, 
but  you  have  a  singular  species  of  madness  ;  you  first  attack 
Lord  Windermear,  then  a  bishop,  and,  to  crown  all,  you  attack 
a  dowager  peeress.  I  must  acknowledge,  that  if  you  do  not 
find  out  your  parents,  it  will  not  be  for  want  of  inquiry. 
Altogether,  you  are  a  most  singular  character ;  your  history  is 
most  singular,  and  your  good  fortune  is  equally  so.  You  have 
made  more  friends  before  you  have  come  to  age,  than  most 
people  do  in  their  whole  lives.  You  commence  the  world 
with  nothing,  and  here  you  are,  with  almost  a  competence — 
have  paid  off  a  loan  of  one  thousand  pounds,  which  was  not 
required — and  are  moving  in  the  best  society.  Now  the  only 
drawback  I  perceive  in  all  this  is,  that  you  are  in  society 
under  false  colours,  having  made  people  suppose  that  you  are 
possessed  of  a  large  fortune.7 

'  It  was  not  exactly  my  assertion,  sir.' 

'  No,  I  grant,  not  exactly ;  but  you  have  been  a  party  to  it, 
and  I  cannot  allow  that  there  is  any  difference.  Now,  do  you 
mean  to  allow  this  supposition  to  remain  uncontradicted  ? ' 

180 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  I  hardly  know  what  to  say,  sir ;  if  I  were  to  state  that  I 
have  nothing  but  a  bare  competence,  it  will  be  only  injurious 
to  the  memory  of  Major  Carbonnell.  All  the  world  will 
suppose  that  he  has  ruined  me,  and  that  I  had  the  fortune, 
whereas,  on  the  contrary,  it  is  to  him  that  I  am  indebted  for 
my  present  favourable  position.' 

'  That  may  be  very  true,  Mr.  Newland ;  but  if  I  am  to 
consider  you  as  my  protdge",  and  I  may  add,  the  protdge  of 
Lord  Windermear,  I  must  make  you  quite  honest — I  will  be 
no  party  to  fraud  in  any  shape.  Are  you  prepared  to  resign 
your  borrowed  plumes,  and  appear  before  the  world  as  you 
really  are  ? ' 

'  There  is  but  one  inducement,  sir,  for  me  to  wish  that  the 
world  may  still  deceive  themselves.  I  may  be  thrown  out  of 
society,  and  lose  the  opportunity  of  discovering  my  parents.' 

'And  pray,  Mr.  Newland,  which  do  you  think  is  more 
likely  to  tend  to  the  discovery,  a  general  knowledge  that  you 
are  a  foundling  in  search  of  your  parents,  or  your  present 
method,  of  taxing  everybody  upon  suspicion.  If  your  parents 
wish  to  reclaim  you,  they  will  then  have  their  eyes  directed 
towards  you,  from  your  position  being  known  ;  and  I  will  add, 
there  are  few  parents  who  will  not  be  proud  of  you  as  a  son. 
You  will  have  the  patronage  of  Lord  Windermear,  which  will 
always  secure  you  a  position  in  society,  and  the  good  wishes 
of  all,  although,  I  grant,  that  such  worldly  people  as  Lady 
Maelstrom  may  strike  your  name  off  their  porter's  list.  You 
will,  moreover,  have  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  the 
friends  which  you  make  have  not  been  made  under  false 
colours  and  appearances,  and  a  still  further  satisfaction, 
arising  from  a  good  conscience.' 

*  I  am  convinced,  sir,  and  I  thank  you  for  your  advice.      I 
will  now  be  guided  by  you  in  everything.' 

'  Give  me  your  hand,  my  good  lad,  I  now  will  be  your 
friend  to  the  utmost  of  my  power.' 

*  I  only  wish,  sir,'  replied  I,  much  affected,  '  that  you  were 
also  my  father.' 

'Thank  you  for  the  wish,  as  it  implies  that  you  have  a 
good  opinion  of  me.  What  do  you  mean  to  do  ? ' 

'  I  have  promised  my  friend  Mr.  Harcourt  to  go  down  with 
him  to  his  father's.' 

'Well.' 

181 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  And  before  I  go  I  will  undeceive  him.' 

*  You  are  right  4  you  will  then  find  whether  he  is  a  friend  to 
you  or  to  your  supposed  ten  thousand  pounds  per  annum.  I 
have  been  reflecting,  and  I  am  not  aware  that  anything  else  can 
be  done  at  present  than  acknowledging  to  the  world  who  you 
really  are,  which  is  more  likely  to  tend  to  the  discovery  of 
your  parents  than  any  other  means,  but  at  the  same  time  I 
shall  not  be  idle.  All  we  lawyers  have  among  us  strange 
secrets,  and  among  my  fraternity,  to  whom  I  shall  speak 
openly,  I  think  it  possible  that  something  may  be  found  out 
which  may  serve  as  a  clue.  Do  not  be  annoyed  at  being  cut 
by  many,  when  your  history  is  known  ;  those  who  cut  you  are 
those  whose  acquaintance  and  friendship  are  not  worth  having  ; 
it  will  unmask  your  flatterers  from  your  friends,  and  you  will 
not  repent  of  your  having  been  honest ;  in  the  end,  it  is  the 
best  policy,  even  in  a  worldly  point  of  view.  Come  to  me  as 
often  as  you  please ;  I  am  always  at  home  to  you,  and  always 
your  friend.' 

Such  was  the  result  of  my  dinner  with  Mr.  Masterton, 
which  I  narrated  to  Timothy  as  soon  as  I  returned  home. 
'Well,  Japhet,  I  think  you  have  found  a  real  friend  in  Mr. 
Masterton,  and  I  am  glad  that  you  have  decided  upon 
following  his  advice.  As  for  me,  I  am  not  under  false  colours, 
I  am  in  my  right  situation,  and  wish  no  more.' 

In  pursuance  of  my  promise  to  Mr.  Masterton,  I  called 
upon  Harcourt  the  next  morning,  and  after  stating  my  in- 
tention to  go  down  for  a  day  or  two  into  the  country  to  see  a 
little  girl  who  was  under  my  care,  I  said  to  him,  *  Harcourt, 
as  long  as  we  were  only  town  acquaintances,  mixing  in 
society,  and  under  no  peculiar  obligation  to  each  other,  I  did 
not  think  it  worth  while  to  undeceive  you  on  a  point  in  which 
Major  Carbonnell  was  deceived  himself,  and  has  deceived 
others  ;  but  now  that  you  have  offered  to  introduce  me  into 
the  bosom  of  your  family,  I  cannot  allow  you  to  remain  in 
error.  It  is  generally  supposed  that  I  am  about  to  enter  into 
a  large  property  when  I  come  of  age ;  now,  so  far  from  that 
being  the  case,  I  have  nothing  in  the  world  but  a  bare 
competence,  and  the  friendship  of  Lord  Windermear.  In 
fact,  I  am  a  deserted  child,  ignorant  of  my  parents,  and  most 
anxious  to  discover  them,  as  I  have  every  reason  to  suppose 
that  I  am  of  no  mean  birth.  I  tell  you  this  candidly,  and 

182 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

unless  you  renew  the  invitation,  shall  consider  that  it  has  not 
been  given.' 

Harcourt  remained  a  short  time  without  answering.  '  You 
really  have  astonished  me,  Newland ;  but,'  continued  he, 
extending  his  hand,  '  I  admire — I  respect  you,  and  I  feel  that 
I  shall  like  you  better.  With  ten  thousand  pounds  a  year, 
you  were  above  me — now  we  are  but  equals.  I,  as  a  younger 
brother,  have  but  a  bare  competence,  as  well  as  you ;  and  as 
for  parents — for  the  benefit  I  now  derive  from  them,  I  might 
as  well  have  none.  Not  but  my  father  is  a  worthy,  fine  old 
gentleman,  but  the  estates  are  entailed ;  he  is  obliged  to 
keep  up  his  position  in  society,  and  he  has  a  large  family  to 
provide  for,  and  he  can  do  no  more.  You  have  indeed  an 
uncommon  moral  courage  to  have  made  this  confession.  Do 
you  wish  it  to  be  kept  a  secret  ? ' 

'  On  the  contrary,  I  wish  the  truth  to  be  known.' 

'  I  am  glad  that  you  say  so,  as  I  have  mentioned  you  as  a 
young  man  of  large  fortune  to  my  father  ;  but  I  feel  convinced, 
when  I  tell  him  this  conversation,  he  will  be  much  more 
pleased  in  taking  you  by  the  hand,  than  if  you  were  to  come 
down  and  propose  to  one  of  my  sisters.  I  repeat  the  invita- 
tion with  double  the  pleasure  that  I  gave  it  at  first.' 

'  I  thank  you,  Harcourt,'  replied  I  ;  '  some  day  I  will  tell 
you  more.  I  must  not  expect,  however,  that  everybody  will 
prove  themselves  as  noble  in  ideas  as  yourself.' 

'  Perhaps  not,  but  never  mind  that.  On  Friday  next,  then, 
we  start.' 

'  Agreed.'      I  shook  hands  and  left  him. 


CHAPTER   XXXVII 

I  try  back  to  recover  the  lost  scent,  and  discover  to  my  astonishment,  that 
I  have  been  transported  for  forgery. 

THE  behaviour  of  Harcourt  was  certainly  a  good  encourage- 
ment, and  had  I  been  wavering  in  my  promise  to  Mr. 
Masterton,  would  have  encouraged  me  to  proceed.  I  returned 
home  with  a  light  heart  and  a  pleasing  satisfaction,  from  the 
conviction  that  I  had  done  right.  The  next  morning  I  set 

183 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

off  for ,  and,  as  it  was  a  long  while  since  I  had  seen  Fleta, 

our  meeting  was  a  source  of  delight  on  both  sides.  I  found 
her  very  much  grown  and  improved.  She  was  approaching 
her  fifteenth  year,  as  nearly  as  we  could  guess — of  course  her 
exact  age  was  a  mystery.  Her  mind  was  equally  expanded. 
Her  mistress  praised  her  docility  and  application,  and  wished 
to  know  whether  I  intended  that  she  should  be  taught  music 
and  drawing,  for  both  of  which  she  had  shown  a  decided  taste. 
To  this  I  immediately  consented,  and  Fleta  hung  on  my 
shoulder  and  embraced  me  for  the  indulgence.  She  was  now 
fast  approaching  to  womanhood,  and  my  feelings  towards  her 
were  more  intense  than  ever.  I  took  the  chain  of  coral  and 
gold  beads  from  her  neck,  telling  her  that  I  must  put  it  into  a 
secure  place,  as  much  depended  upon  them.  She  was  curious 
to  know  why,  but  I  would  not  enter  into  the  subject  at  that 
time.  One  caution  I  gave  her,  in  case,  by  any  chance,  her 
retreat  should  be  discovered  by  the  companions  of  Melchior, 
which  was,  that  without  I  myself  came,  she  was,  on  no 
account,  to  leave  the  school,  even  if  a  letter  from  me  was 
produced,  requesting  her  to  come,  unless  that  letter  was 
delivered  by  Timothy.  I  gave  the  same  directions  to  her 
mistress,  paid  up  her  schooling  and  expenses,  and  then  left 
her,  promising  not  to  be  so  long  before  I  saw  her  again.  On 
my  return  to  town  I  deposited  the  necklace  with  Mr.  Master- 
ton,  who  locked  it  up  carefully  in  his  iron  safe. 

On  the  Friday,  as  agreed,  Harcourt  and  I,  accompanied 
by  Timothy  and  Harcourt's  servant,  started  on  the  outside  of 
the  coach,  as  younger  brothers  usually  convey  themselves,  for 

his  father's  seat  in  shire,  and  arrived  there  in  time  for 

dinner.  I  was  kindly  received  by  old  Mr.  Harcourt  and  his 
family,  consisting  of  his  wife  and  three  amiable  and  beautiful 
girls.  But  on  the  second  day,  during  which  interval  I  presume 
Harcourt  had  an  opportunity  of  undeceiving  his  father,  I  was 
delighted  to  perceive  that  the  old  gentleman's  warmth  of 
behaviour  towards  me  was  increased.  I  remained  there  for  a 
fortnight,  and  never  was  so  happy.  I  was  soon  on  the  most 
intimate  terms  with  the  whole  family,  and  was  treated  as  if  I 
belonged  to  it.  Yet  when  I  went  to  bed  every  night,  I  be- 
came more  and  more  melancholy.  I  felt  what  a  delight  it 
must  be  to  have  parents,  sisters,  and  friends — the  bosom  of  a 
family  to  retire  into,  to  share  with  it  your  pleasures  and  your 

184 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

pains  ;  and  the  tears  often  ran  down  my  cheeks,  and  moistened 
my  pillow,  when  I  had,  not  an  hour  before,  been  the  happiest 
of  the  happy,  and  the  gayest  of  the  gay.  In  a  family  party, 
there  is  nothing  so  amusing  as  any  little  talent  out  of  the 
general  way,  and  my  performances  and  tricks  on  cards,  etc., 
in  which  Melchior  had  made  me  such  an  adept,  were  now 
brought  forward  as  a  source  of  innocent  gratification.  When 
I  quitted,  I  had  a  general  and  hearty  welcome  to  the  house 
from  the  parents  ;  and  the  eyes  of  the  amiable  girls,  as  well  as 
mine,  were  not  exactly  dry,  as  we  bade  each  other  farewell. 
'  You  told  your  father,  Harcourt,  did  you  not  ? ' 

*  Yes,   and    the    whole    of   them,    Japhet ;    and    you  must 
acknowledge,  that  in  their  estimation  you  did  not  suffer.      My 
father  is  pleased  with  our  intimacy,  and  advises  me  to  cultivate 
it.     To  prove  to  you  that  I  am  anxious  so  to  do,  I  have  a 
proposal  to  make.      I  know  your  house  as  well  as  you  do,  and 
that  you  have  reserved  only  the  first  floor  for  yourself;  but 
there  are  two  good   rooms   on   the  first   floor,    and  you  can 
dispense  with  a  dressing-room.      Suppose  we  club   together. 
It  will  be  a  saving  to  us  both,  as  poor  Carbonnell  said  when 
he  took  you  in.' 

'  With  all  my  heart :  I  am  delighted  with  the  proposal.' 
Harcourt  then  stated  what  it  was  his  intention  to  offer  for 
his  share  of  the  apartment ;  the  other  expenses  to  be  divided, 
and  his  servant  dismissed.  I  hardly  need  say,  that  we  did 
not  disagree,  and  before  I  had  been  a  week  in  town,  we  were 
living  together.  My  interview  with  Mr.  Masterton,  and 
subsequent  events,  had  made  me  forget  to  call  on  the 
governors  of  the  Foundling  Hospital,  to  ascertain  whether 
there  had  been  any  inquiries  after  me.  On  my  return  to  town 
I  went  there,  and  finding  that  there  was  a  meeting  to  be  held 
on  the  next  day,  I  presented  myself.  I  was  introduced  into 
the  room  where  they  were  assembled. 

*  You  wish  to  speak  with  the  governors  of  the  Hospital,  I 
understand,'  said  the  presiding  governor. 

4 Yes,  sir,'  replied  I  ;  'I  have  come  to  ask  whether  an 
inquiry  has  been  made  after  one  of  the  inmates  of  this  charity, 
of  the  name  of  Japhet  Newland.' 

« Japhet  Newland  ! ' 

*  If  you  recollect,  sir,  he  was  bound  to  an  apothecary  of 
the  name  of  Cophagus,  in  consequence  of  some  money  which 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

was  left  with  him  as  an  infant,  enclosed  in  a  letter,  in  which 
it  was  said  that  he  would  be  reclaimed  if  circumstances 
permitted.' 

'  I  recollect  it  perfectly  well — it  is  now  about  six  years  back. 
I  think  there  was  some  inquiry,  was  there  not,  Mr.  G ? ' 

'  I  think  that  there  was,  about  a  year  and  a  half  ago ;  but 
we  will  send  for  the  secretary,  and  refer  to  the  minutes.' 

My  heart  beat  quick,  and  the  perspiration  bedewed  my 
forehead,  when  I  heard  this  intelligence.  At  last,  my  emotion 
was  so  great,  that  I  felt  faint.  *  You  are  ill,  sir,'  said  one  of 
the  gentlemen  ;  '  quick — a  glass  of  water.' 

The  attendant  brought  a  glass  of  water,  which  I  drank, 
and  recovered  myself.  '  You  appear  to  be  much  interested  in 
this  young  man's  welfare.' 

'  I  am,  sir,'  replied  I  ;  c  no  one  can  be  more  so.' 

The  secretary  now  made  his  appearance  with  the  register, 
and  after  turning  over  the  leaves,  read  as  follows  :  '  August 

the  1 6th, a  gentleman  came  to  inquire  after  an  infant  left 

here,  of  the  name  of  Japhet,  with  whom  money  had  been 
deposited — Japhet,  christened  by  order  of  the  governors, 
Japhet  Newland — referred  to  the  shop  of  Mr.  Cophagus, 
Smithfield  Market.  He  returned  the  next  day,  saying  that 
Mr.  Cophagus  had  retired  from  business — that  the  parties  in 
the  shop  knew  nothing  for  certain,  but  believed  that  the  said 
Japhet  Newland  had  been  transported  for  life  for  forgery, 
about  a  year  before.' 

'  Good  heavens  !  what  an  infamous  assertion  ! '  exclaimed 
I,  clasping  my  hands. 

1  On  reference  back  to  the  calendar,  we  observed  that  one 
J.  Newland  was  transported  for  such  an  offence.  Query  ? ' 

'  It  must  have  been  some  other  person ;  but  this  has 
arisen  from  the  vindictive  feeling  of  those  two  scoundrels  who 
served  under  Pleggit,'  cried  I. 

'  How  can  you  possibly  tell,  sir  ? '  mildly  observed  one  of 
the  governors. 

*  How  can  I  tell,  sir  ! '  replied  I,  starting  from  my  chair. 
*  Why,  I  am  Japhet  Newland  myself,  sir.' 

'  You,  sir,'  replied  the  governor,  surveying  my  fashionable 
exterior,  my  chains,  and  bijouterie. 

'Yes,  sir,  I  am  the  Japhet  Newland  brought  up  in  this 
asylum,  and  who  was  apprenticed  to  Mr.  Cophagus.' 

186 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

c  Probably,  then,  sir,'  replied  the  president,  '  you  are  the 
Mr.  Newland  whose  name  appears  at  all  the  fashionable  parties 
in  high  life  ? ' 

*  I  believe  that  I  am  the  same  person,  sir.' 

*  I  wish  you  joy  upon  your  success  in  the  world,  sir.      It 
would  not  appear  that  it   can  be  very  important  to  you  to 
discover  your  parents.' 

'  Sir,'  replied  I,  '  you  have  never  known  what  it  is  to  feel 
the  want  of  parents  and  friends.  Fortunate  as  you  may 
consider  me  to  be — and  I  acknowledge  I  have  every  reason 
to  be  grateful  for  my  unexpected  rise  in  life — I  would,  at 
this  moment,  give  up  all  that  I  am  worth,  resume  my  Found- 
ling dress,  and  be  turned  out  a  beggar,  if  I  could  but  discover 
the  authors  of  my  existence.'  I  then  bowed  low  to  the 
governors,  and  quitted  the  room. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII 

Mischief  brewing — Timothy  and  I  set  our  wits  to  work,  and  he  resumes 
his  old  profession  of  a  gipsy. 

I  HASTENED  home  with  feelings  too  painful  to  be  described. 
I  had  a  soreness  at  my  heart,  an  oppression  on  my  spirits, 
which  weighed  me  down.  I  had  but  one  wish — that  I  was 
dead.  I  had  already  imparted  to  Harcourt  the  history  of 
my  life ;  and  when  I  came  in,  I  threw  myself  upon  the  sofa 
in  despair,  and  relieved  my  agonised  heart  with  a  flood  of 
tears.  As  soon  as  I  could  compose  myself,  I  stated  what 
had  occurred. 

<My  dear  Newland,  although  it  has  been  an  unfortunate 
occurrence  in  itself,  I  do  not  see  that  you  have  so  much  cause 
to  grieve,  for  you  have  this  satisfaction,  that  it  appears  there 
has  been  a  wish  to  reclaim  you.' 

'  Yes,'  replied  I,  « I  grant  that ;  but  have  they  not  been 
told,  and  have  they  not  believed,  that  I  have  been  igno- 
miniously  punished  for  a  capital  crime  ?  Will  they  ever  seek 
me  more  ? ' 

- '  Probably  not  ;  you  must  now  seek  them.      What  I  should 
recommend  is,  that  you  repair  to-morrow  to  the  apothecary's 

187 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

shop,  and  interrogate  relative  to  the  person  who  called  to 
make  inquiries  after  you.  If  you  will  allow  me,  I  will  go 
with  you.' 

'  And  be  insulted  by  those  malignant  scoundrels  ? ' 

'  They  dare  not  insult  you.  As  an  apothecary's  apprentice 
they  would,  but  as  a  gentleman  they  will  quail ;  and  if  they 
do  not,  their  master  will  most  certainly  be  civil,  and  give 
you  all  the  information  which  he  can.  We  may  as  well, 
however,  not  do  things  by  halves  ;  I  will  borrow  my  aunt's 
carriage  for  the  morning,  and  we  will  go  in  style.' 

'  I  think  I  will  call  this  evening  upon  Mr.  Masterton,  and 
ask  his  advice.' 

'  Ask  him  to  accompany  us,  Newland,  and  he  will  frighten 
them  with  libel,  and  defamation  of  character.' 

I  called  upon  Mr.  Masterton  that  evening,  and  told  my 
story.  '  It  is  indeed  very  provoking,  Newland ;  but  keep 
your  courage  up,  and  I  will  go  with  you  to-morrow,  and  will 
see  what  we  can  make  of  it.  At  what  time  do  you  propose 
to  start  ? ' 

'  Will  it  suit  you,  sir,  if  we  call  at  one  o'clock  ? ' 

'  Yes  ;  so  good-night,  my  boy,  for  I  have  something  here 
which  I  must  contrive  to  get  through  before  that  time.' 

Harcourt  had  procured  the  carriage,  and  we  picked  up 
Mr.  Masterton  at  the  hour  agreed,  and  proceeded  to  Smith- 
field.  When  we  drove  up  to  the  door  of  Mr.  Pleggit's  shop, 
the  assistants  at  first  imagined  that  it  was  a  mistake ;  few 
handsome  carriages  are  to  be  seen  stopping  in  this  quarter 
of  the  metropolis.  We  descended  and  entered  the  shop,  Mr. 
Masterton  inquiring  if  Mr.  Pleggit  was  at  home.  The  shop- 
men, who  had  not  recognised  me,  bowed  to  the  ground  in 
their  awkward  way ;  and  one  ran  to  call  Mr.  Pleggit,  who 
was  upstairs.  Mr.  Pleggit  descended,  and  we  walked  into 
the  back  parlour.  Mr.  Masterton  then  told  him  the  object 
of  our  calling,  and  requested  to  know  why  the  gentleman 
who  had  inquired  after  me  had  been  sent  away  with  the 
infamous  fabrication  that  I  had  been  transported  for  forgery. 
Mr.  Pleggit  protested  innocence — recollected,  however,  that 
a  person  had  called — would  make  every  inquiry  of  his  shop- 
men. The  head  man  was  called  in  and  interrogated — at 
first  he  appeared  to  make  a  joke  of  it,  but  when  threatened 
by  Mr.  Masterton  became  humble — acknowledged  that  they 

1 88 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

had  said  that  I  was  transported,  for  they  had  read  it  in  the 
newspapers — was  sorry  for  the  mistake  ;  said  that  the  gentle- 
man was  a  very  tall  person,  very  well  dressed,  very  much  of 
a  gentleman — could  not  recollect  his  exact  dress — was  a 
large  built  man,  with  a  stern  face — but  seemed  very  much 
agitated  when  he  heard  that  I  had  been  transported.  Called 
twice,  Mr.  Pleggit  was  not  in  at  first — left  his  name — thinks 
the  name  was  put  down  on  the  day-book — when  he  called  a 
second  time,  Mr.  Pleggit  was  at  home,  and  referred  him  to 
them,  not  knowing  what  had  become  of  me.  The  other 
shopman  was  examined,  and  his  evidence  proved  similar  to 
that  of  the  first.  The  day-book  was  sent  for,  and  the  day 
in  August  —  —  referred  to ;  there  was  a  name  written  down 
on  the  side  of  the  page,  which  the  shopman  said  he  had  no 
doubt,  indeed  he  could  almost  swear,  was  the  gentleman's 
name,  as  there  was  no  other  name  put  down  on  that  day. 
The  name,  as  taken  down,  was  Derbennon.  This  was  all 
the  information  we  could  obtain,  and  we  then  quitted  the 
shop,  and  drove  off  without  there  being  any  recognition  of 
me  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Pleggit  and  his  assistants. 

'  I  never  heard  that  name  before,'  observed  Harcourt  to 
Mr.  Masterton. 

'It  is,  in  all  probability,  De  Benyon,'  replied  the  lawyer : 
'  we  must  make  allowances  for  their  ignorance.  At  all  events, 
this  is  a  sort  of  clue  to  follow  up.  The  De  Benyons  are  Irish.' 

*  Then   I  will  set  off  for  Ireland  to-morrow  morning,  sir,' 
said  I. 

'  You  will  do  no  such  thing,'  replied  the  lawyer  ;  '  but  you 
will  call  upon  me  to-morrow  evening,  and  perhaps  I  may 
have  something  to  say  to  you.' 

*  I  did  not  fail  to  attend   to   Mr.   Masterton,   who  stated 
that  he  had  made  every  inquiry  relative  to  the  De  Benyons  ; 
as   he   had  said,   they  were   an    Irish   family   of  the   highest 
rank,  and  holding  the  peerage  of  De  Beauvoir ;  but  that  he 
had  written  to  his  agent  in  Dublin,  giving  him  directions  to 
obtain  for  him  every  possible  information  in  his  power  relative 
to    all    the    individuals    composing    it.       Till    this    had    been 
received,  all  that    I    could  do  was  to  remain  quiet.      I   then 
narrated   to  him  the  behaviour  of  the  agent,   Mr.    Iving,   to 
Timothy.      'There   is   some  mystery  there,    most    assuredly,' 
observed  Mr.  Masterton  :   '  when  do  you  go  again  to  —    —  ? ' 

189 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  replied,  that  it  was  not  my  intention  to  go  there  for 
some  time,  unless  he  would  wish  to  see  the  little  girl. 

'  I  do,  Newland.  I  think  I  must  take  her  under  my 
protection  as  well  as  you.  We  will  go  down  to-morrow. 
Sunday  is  the  only  day  I  can  spare ;  but  it  must  be  put 
down  as  a  work  of  charity.' 

The  next  day  we  went  down  to  —  — .  Fleta  was  surprised 
to  see  me  so  soon,  and  Mr.  Masterton  was  much  struck  with 
the  elegance  and  classical  features  of  my  little  protdgee.  He 
asked  her  many  questions,  and,  with  his  legal  tact,  contrived 
to  draw  from  her  many  little  points  relative  to  her  infant 
days,  which  she  had,  till  he  put  his  probing  questions,  quite 
forgotten.  As  we  returned  to  town,  he  observed,  'You  are 
right,  Japhet ;  that  is  no  child  of  humble  origin.  Her  very 
appearance  contradicts  it ;  but  we  have,  I  think,  a  chance  of 
discovering  who  she  is — a  better  one,  I'm  afraid,  than  at 
present  we  have  for  your  identification.  But  never  mind, 
let  us  trust  to  perseverance.3 

For  three  weeks  I  continued  to  live  with  Harcourt,  but  I 
did  not  go  out  much.  Such  was  the  state  of  my  affairs,  when 
Timothy  came  to  my  room  one  morning,  and  said,  '  I  do  not 
know  whether  you  have  observed  it,  sir  ;  but  there  is  a  man 
constantly  lurking  about  here,  watching  the  house,  I  believe. 
I  think,  but  still  I'm  not  quite  sure,  that  I  have  seen  his  face 
before  ;  but  where  I  cannot  recollect.' 

'  Indeed,  what  sort  of  a  person  may  he  be  ?' 

'He  is  a  very  dark  man,  stout,  and  well  made  ;  and  is 
dressed  in  a  sort  of  half-sailor,  half-gentleman's  dress,  such  as 
you  see  put  on  by  those  who  belong  to  the  Funny  Clubs  on 
the  river  ;  but  he  is  not  at  all  a  gentleman  himself — quite  the 
contrary.  It  is  now  about  a  week  that  I  have  seen  him, 
every  day  ;  and  I  have  watched  him,  and  perceive  that  he 
generally  follows  you  as  soon  as  you  go  out.' 

'  Well, '  replied  I,  *  we  must  find  out  what  he  wants — if  we 
can.  Point  him  out  to  me  ;  I  will  soon  see  if  he  is  tracing 
my  steps.' 

Timothy  pointed  him  out  to  me  after  breakfast ;  I  could 
not  recollect  the  face,  and  yet  it  appeared  that  I  had  seen  it 
before.  I  went  out,  and  after  passing  half  a  dozen  streets,  I 
turned  round  and  perceived  that  the  man  was  dodging  me. 
I  took  no  notice,  but  being  resolved  to  try  him  again,  I 

190 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

walked  to  the  White  Horse  Cellar,  and  took  a  seat  inside  a 
Brentford  coach  about  to  start.  On  my  arrival  at  Brentford  I 
got  out,  and  perceived  that  the  man  was  on  the  roof.  Of  a 
sudden  it  flashed  on  my  memory — it  was  the  gipsy  who  had 
come  to  the  camp  with  the  communication  to  Melchior,  which 
induced  him  to  quit  it.  I  recollected  him — and  his  kneeling 
down  by  the  stream  and  washing  his  face.  The  mystery  was 
solved — Melchior  had  employed  him  to  find  out  the  residence 
of  Fleta.  In  all  probability  they  had  applied  to  the  false 
address  given  by  Timothy,  and  in  consequence  were  trying,  by 
watching  my  motions,  to  find  out  the  true  one.  *  You  shall 
be  deceived,  at  all  events,'  thought  I,  as  I  walked  on  through 
Brentford  until  I  came  to  a  ladies'  seminary.  I  rang  the  bell, 
and  was  admitted,  stating  my  wish  to  know  the  terms  of  the 
school  for  a  young  lady,  and  contrived  to  make  as  long  a  stay 
as  I  could,  promising  to  call  again,  if  the  relatives  of  the 
young  lady  were  as  satisfied  as  I  professed  to  be.  On  my 
quitting  the  house,  I  perceived  that  my  gipsy  attendant  was 
not  far  off.  I  took  the  first  stage  back,  and  returned  to  my 
lodgings.  When  I  had  told  all  that  had  occurred  to  Timothy, 
he  replied,  '  I  think,  sir,  that  if  you  could  replace  me  for  a 
week  or  two,  I  could  now  be  of  great  service.  He  does  not 
know  me,  and  if  I  were  to  darken  my  face,  and  put  on  a 
proper  dress,  I  think  I  should  have  no  difficulty  in  passing 
myself  off  as  one  of  the  tribe,  knowing  their  slang,  and  having 
been  so  much  with  them.' 

'  But  what  good  do  you  anticipate,  Timothy  ?' 
'  My  object  is  to  find  out  where  he  puts  up,  and  to  take  the 
same    quarters — make    his    acquaintance,    and  find  out   who 
Melchior  is,  and  where  he  lives.     My  knowledge  of  him  and 
Natte'e  may  perhaps  assist  me. ' 

'  You  must  be  careful,  then,  Timothy  ;  for  he  may  know 
sufficient  of  our  history  to  suspect  you. ' 

*  Let  me  alone,  sir.     Do  you  like  my  proposal  ?' 
1  Yes,    I    do  ;    you    may    commence    your    arrangements 
immediately. ' 


191 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 
CHAPTER   XXXIX 

I  set  off  on  a  wild-goose  chase — And  fall  in  with  an  old  friend. 

THE  next  morning  Timothy  had  procured  me  another  valet, 
and  throwing  off  his  liveries,  made  his  appearance  in  the 
evening,  sending  up  to  say  a  man  wished  to  speak  to  me. 
He  was  dressed  in  highlow  boots,  worsted  stockings,  greasy 
leather  small  clothes,  a  shag  waistcoat,  and  a  blue  frock  over- 
all. His  face  was  stained  of  a  dark  olive,  and  when  he  was 
ushered  in,  Harcourt,  who  was  sitting  at  table  with  me,  had 
not  the  slightest  recognition  of  him.  As  Harcourt  knew  all 
my  secrets,  I  had  confided  this  ;  I  had  not  told  him  what 
Timothy's  intentions  were,  as  I  wished  to  ascertain  whether 
his  disguise  was  complete.  I  had  merely  said  I  had  given 
Timothy  leave  for  a  few  days. 

'  Perhaps  you  may  wish  me  away  for  a  short  time, '  said 
Harcourt,  looking  at  Tim. 

'  Not  at  all,  my  dear  Harcourt,  why  should  I  ?  There's 
nobody  here  but  you  and  Timothy.' 

*  Timothy  !  excellent — upon  my  word,  I  never  should  have 
known  him.' 

'  He  is  going  forth  on  his  adventures. ' 

*  And  if  you   please,  sir,   I  will  lose  no  time.      It  is  now 
dark,  and  I  know  where  the  gipsy  hangs  out.' 

'  Success  attend  you  then  ;  but  be  careful,  Tim.  You  had 
better  write  to  me,  instead  of  calling. ' 

'  I  had  the  same  idea  ;  and  now  I  wish  you  a  good 
evening.' 

When  Timothy  quitted  the  room,  I  explained  our  inten- 
tions to  Harcourt.  *  Yours  is  a  strange  adventurous  sort  of 
life,  Newland  ;  you  are  constantly  plotted  against,  and  plotting 
in  your  turn — mines  and  counter-mines.  I  have  an  idea  that 
you  will  turn  out  some  grand  personage  after  all  ;  for  if  not, 
why  should  there  be  all  this  trouble  about  you  ?' 

1  The  trouble,  in  the  present  case,  is  all  about  Fleta  ;  who 
must,  by  your  argument,  turn  out  some  grand  personage.' 

'  Well,  perhaps  she  may.  I  should  like  to  see  that  little 
girl,  Newland.' 

192 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  That  cannot  be  just  now,  for  reasons  you  well  know  ;  but 
some  other  time  it  will  give  me  great  pleasure.' 

On  the  second  day  after  Tim's  departure,  I  received  a 
letter  from  him  by  the  twopenny  post.  He  had  made  the 
acquaintance  of  the  gipsy,  but  had  not  extracted  any  inform- 
ation, being  as  yet  afraid  to  venture  any  questions.  He 


1  They  had  been  consulting  how  this  should  be  done.' 

further  stated  that  his  new  companion  had  no  objection  to  a 
glass  or  two,  and  that  he  had  no  doubt  but  that  if  he  could 
contrive  to  make  him  tipsy,  in  a  few  days  he  would  have  some 
important  intelligence  to  communicate.  I  was  in  a  state  of 
great  mental  agitation  during  this  time.  I  went  to  Mr. 
Masterton,  and  narrated  to  him  all  that  had  passed.  He  was 
surprised  and  amused,  and  desired  me  not  to  fail  to  let  him 
O  193 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

have  the  earliest  intelligence  of  what  came  to  light.     He  had 
not  received  any  answer  as  yet  from  his  agent  in  Dublin. 

It  was  not  until  eight  days  afterwards  that  I  received 
further  communication  from  Timothy  ;  and  I  was  in  a  state  of 
great  impatience,  combined  with  anxiety,  lest  any  accident 
should  have  happened.  His  communication  was  important. 
He  was  on  the  most  intimate  footing  with  the  man,  who  had 
proposed  that  he  should  assist  him  to  carry  off  a  little  girl, 
who  was  at  a  school  at  Brentford.  They  had  been  consulting 
how  this  should  be  done,  and  Timothy  had  proposed  forging  a 
letter,  desiring  her  to  come  up  to  town,  and  his  carrying  it  as 
a  livery  servant.  The  man  had  also  other  plans,  one  of  which 
was  to  obtain  an  entrance  into  the  house  by  making  acquaint- 
ance with  the  servants  ;  another,  by  calling  to  his  aid  some  of 
the  women  of  his  fraternity  to  tell  fortunes  :  nothing  was  as 
yet  decided,  but  that  he  was  resolved  to  obtain  possession  of 
the  little  girl,  even  if  he  were  obliged  to  resort  to  force.  In 
either  case  Timothy  was  engaged  to  assist. 

When  I  read  this,  I  more  than  congratulated  myself  upon 
the  man's  being  on  the  wrong  scent,  and  that  Timothy  had 
hit  upon  his  scheme.  Timothy  continued  : — that  they  had 
indulged  in  very  deep  potations  last  night,  and  that  the  man 
had  not  scrupled  to  say  that  he  was  employed  by  a  person  of 
large  fortune,  who  paid  well,  and  whom  it  might  not  be  advis- 
able to  refuse,  as  he  had  great  power.  After  some  difficulty, 
he  asked  Timothy  if  he  had  ever  heard  the  name  of  Melchior 
in  his  tribe.  Timothy  replied  that  he  had,  and  that  at  the 
gathering  he  had  seen  him  and  his  wife.  Timothy  at  one  time 
thought  that  the  man  was  about  to  reveal  everything,  but  of 
a  sudden  he  stopped  short,  and  gave  evasive  answers.  To  a 
question  put  by  Timothy,  as  to  where  they  were  to  take  the 
child  if  they  obtained  possession  of  her,  the  man  had  replied, 
that  she  would  go  over  the  water.  Such  were  the  contents  of 
the  letter,  and  I  eagerly  awaited  a  further  communication. 

The  next  day  I  called  at  Long's  Hotel  upon  a  gentleman 
with  whom  I  was  upon  intimate  terms.  After  remaining  a 
short  time  with  him,  I  was  leaving  the  hotel,  when  I  was 
attracted  by  some  trunks  in  the  entrance  hall.  I  started 
when  I  read  the  address  of — '  A.  De  Benyon,  Esq.,  to  be  left 

at  F 1  Hotel,  Dublin.'      I  asked  the  waiter  who  was  by, 

whether  Mr.  De  Benyon  had  left  the  hotel.      He  replied  that 

194 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

he  had  left  it  in  his  own  carriage  that  morning,  and  having 
more  luggage  than  he  could  take  with  him,  had  desired  these 
trunks  to  be  forwarded  by  the  coach.  I  had  by  that  time 
resumed  my  serenity.  I  took  out  a  memorandum-book,  wrote 
down  the  address  on  the  trunks,  saying  that  I  was  sorry  not 
to  have  seen  Mr.  De  Benyon,  and  that  I  would  write  to  him. 
But  if  I  composed  myself  before  the  waiter,  how  did  my 
heart  throb  as  I  hastily  passed  through  Bond  Street  to  my 
home !  I  had  made  up  my  mind,  upon  what  very  slight 
grounds  the  reader  must  be  aware,  that  this  Mr.  De  Benyon 
either  must  be  my  father,  or,  if  not,  was  able  to  tell  me  who 
was.  Had  not  Mr.  Masterton  said  that  there  was  a  clue — 
had  he  not  written  to  Dublin  ?  The  case  was  to  my  excited 
imagination  as  clear  as  the  noon-day,  and  before  I  arrived  at 
home,  I  had  made  up  my  mind  in  what  manner  I  should 
proceed.  It  was  then  about  four  o'clock.  I  hastily  packed  up 
my  portmanteau — took  with  me  all  my  ready  money,  about  sixty 
pounds,  and  sent  the  servant  to  secure  a  place  in  the  mail  to 
Holyhead.  He  returned,  stating  that  there  was  a  seat  taken  for 
me.  I  waited  till  half-past  five  to  see  Harcourt,  but  he  did  not 
come  home.  I  then  wrote  him  a  short  note,  telling  him  where 
I  was  going,  and  promising  to  write  as  soon  as  I  arrived. 

'  Ireland  is  to  be  the  ground  of  my  future  adventures,  my 
dear  Harcourt.  Call  upon  Mr.  Masterton,  and  tell  him  what 
I  have  done,  which  he  surely  will  approve.  Open  Timothy's 
letters,  and  let  me  have  their  contents.  I  leave  you  to  arrange 
and  act  for  me  in  every  respect  until  I  return.  In  the  mean- 
time believe  me, 

'  Ever  yours, 

<J.  NEWLAND. 

I  gave  the  letter  to  the  valet,  and  calling  a  coach  drove  to 
the  office,  and  in  less  than  five  minutes  afterwards  was  rolling 
away  to  Holyhead,  felicitating  myself  upon  my  promptitude 
and  decision,  little  imagining  to  what  the  step  I  had  taken 
was  to  lead. 

It  was  a  very  dark  night  in  November  when  I  started  on 
my  expedition.  There  were  three  other  passengers  in  the 
mail,  none  of  whom  had  yet  spoken  a  word,  although  we  had 
made  several  miles  of  our  journey.  Muffled  up  in  my  cloak, 
I  indulged  in  my  own  reveries  as  usual,  building  up  castles 

195 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

which  toppled  over  one  after  another  as  I  built  and  rebuilt 
again.  At  last  one  of  the  passengers  blew  his  nose,  as  if  to 
give  warning  that  he  was  about  to  speak ;  and  then  inquired 
of  the  gentleman  next  him  if  he  had  seen  the  evening  news- 
papers. The  other  replied  in  the  negative.  '  It  would  appear 
that  Ireland  is  not  in  a  very  quiet  state,  sir,3  observed  the  first. 

'  Did  you  ever  read  the  history  of  Ireland  ? '  inquired  the 
other. 

'  Not  very  particularly.' 

*  Then,  sir,  if  you  were  to  take  that  trouble,  you  will  find 
that  Ireland,  since  it  was  first  peopled,  never  has  been  in  a 
quiet  state,  nor  perhaps  ever  will.      It  is  a  species  of  human 
volcano  —  always    either    smoking,   burning,    or  breaking  out 
into  eruptions  and  fire.' 

'  Very  true,  sir,'  replied  the  other.  '  I  am  told  the  White 
Boys  are  mustering  in  large  numbers,  and  that  some  of  the 
districts  are  quite  impassable.' 

*  Sir,  if  you  had  travelled  much  in  Ireland,  you  would  have 
found  out   that  many  of  the   districts   are   quite  impassable, 
without  the  impediment  of  the  White  Boys.' 

'  You  have  been  a  great  deal  in  Ireland  then,  sir,'  replied 
the  other. 

*  Yes,  sir,'  said  the  other  with  a  consequential  air,  '  I  believe 
I  may  venture  to  say  that  I  am  in  charge  of  some  of  the  most 
considerable  properties  in  Ireland.' 

'  Lawyer — agent — five  per  cent — and  so  on,'  muttered  the 
third  party,  who  sate  by  me,  and  had  not  yet  spoken. 

There  was  no  mistaking  him — it  was  my  former  master, 
Mr.  Cophagus  ;  and  I  cannot  say  that  I  was  very  well  pleased 
at  this  intimation  of  his  presence,  as  I  took  it  for  granted  that 
he  would  recognise  me  as  soon  as  it  was  daylight.  The  con- 
versation continued,  without  any  remarks  being  made  upon 
this  interruption  on  the  part  of  Mr.  Cophagus.  The  agent,  it 
appeared,  had  been  called  to  London  on  business,  and  was 
returning.  The  other  was  a  professor  of  music,  bound  to 
Dublin  on  speculation.  What  called  Mr.  Cophagus  in  that 
direction  I  could  not  comprehend  ;  but  I  thought  I  would  try 
and  find  out.  I  therefore,  while  the  two  others  were  engaged 
in  conversation,  addressed  him  in  a  low  tone  of  voice.  '  Can 
you  tell  me,  sir,  if  the  College  at  Dublin  is  considered  good 
for  the  instruction  of  surgical  pupils  ? ' 

196 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  Country  good,  at  all  events  plenty  of  practice — broken 
heads — and  so  on.5 

'  Have  you  ever  been  in  Ireland,  sir  ? ' 

'  Ireland  ! — never — don't  wish  to  go — must  go — old  women 
will  die — executor — botheration — and  so  on.' 

*  I  hope  she  has  left  you  a  good  legacy,  sir,'  replied  I. 

'  Legacy — humph — can't  tell — silver  tea-pot — suit  of  black, 
and  so  on.  Long  journey — won't  pay — can't  be  helped — old 
women  always  troublesome  alive  or  dead — bury  her,  come 
back — and  so  on.' 


CHAPTER  XL 

I  deny  my  master. 

ALTHOUGH  Mr.  Cophagus  was  very  communicative  in  his 
own  way,  he  had  no  curiosity  with  regard  to  others,  and  the 
conversation  dropped.  The  other  two  had  also  asked  all  the 
questions  which  they  wished,  and  we  all,  as  if  by  one  agree- 
ment, fell  back  in  our  seats,  and  shut  our  eyes,  to  court  sleep. 
I  was  the  only  one  who  wooed  it  in  vain.  Day  broke,  my 
companions  were  all  in  repose,  and  I  discontinued  my  reveries, 
and  examined  their  physiognomies.  Mr.  Cophagus  was  the 
first  to  whom  I  directed  my  attention.  He  was  much  the 
same  in  face  as  when  I  had  left  him,  but  considerably  thinner 
in  person.  His  head  was  covered  with  a  white  nightcap,  and 
he  snored  with  emphasis.  The  professor  of  music  was  a  very 
small  man,  with  mustachios  :  his  mouth  was  wide  open  ;  and 
one  would  have  thought  that  he  was  in  the  full  execution  of  a 
bravura.  The  third  person,  who  had  stated  himself  to  be  an 
agent,  was  a  heavy,  full-faced,  coarse-looking  personage,  with 
his  hat  over  his  eyes,  and  his  head  bent  down  on  his  chest, 
and  I  observed  that  he  had  a  small  packet  in  one  of  his  hands, 
with  his  forefinger  twisted  through  the  string.  I  should  not 
have  taken  further  notice,  had  not  the  name  of  T.  Iving,  in 
the  corner  of  the  side  on  which  was  the  direction,  attracted 
my  attention.  It  was  the  name  of  Melchior's  London  corre- 
spondent, who  had  attempted  to  bribe  Timothy.  This  induced 
me  to  look  down  and  read  the  direction  of  the  packet,  and  I 

197 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

clearly  deciphered,  Sir  Henry  de  Clare,  Bart.,  Mount  Castle, 
Connemara.  I  took  out  my  tablets  and  wrote  down  the 
address.  I  certainly  had  no  reason  for  so  doing,  except  that 
nothing  should  be  neglected,  as  there  was  no  saying  what 
might  turn  out.  I  had  hardly  replaced  my  tablets  when  the 
party  awoke,  made  a  sort  of  snatch  at  the  packet,  as  if  recol- 


'  My  companions  were  all  in  repose' 

lecting  it,  and  wishing  to  ascertain  if  it  were  safe,  looked  at  it, 
took  off  his  hat,  let  down  the  window,  and  then  looked  round 
upon  the  other  parties. 

'  Fine  morning,  sir,'  said  he  to  me,  perceiving  that  I  was 
the  only  person  awake. 

'  Very,'  replied  I,  '  very  fine ;  but  I  had  rather  be  walking 
over  the  mountains  of  Connemara,  than  be  shut  up  in  this 
close  and  confined  conveyance.' 

198 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  Hah  !    you  know   Connemara,    then  ?     I'm  going  there ; 
perhaps  you  are  also  bound  to  that  part  of  the  country  ?  but 
you  are  not  Irish.' 

'  I  was  not  born  or  bred  in  Ireland,  certainly,'  replied  I. 
'  So  I  should  say.      Irish  blood  in  your  veins,  I  presume.' 

*  I  believe  such  to  be  the  case,'  replied  I,  with  a  smile, 
implying  certainty. 

'  Do  you  know  Sir  Henry  de  Clare  ? ' 
'  Sir  Henry  de  Clare — of  Mount  Castle — is  he  not  ? ' 
'  The  same  ;  I  am  going  over  to  him.      I  am  agent  for  his 
estates,  among  others.     A  very  remarkable  man.     Have  you 
ever  seen  his  wife  ? ' 

'  I  really  cannot  tell,'  replied  I  ;  'let  me  call  to  mind.' 
I  had  somehow  or  another  formed  an  idea,  that  Sir  Henry 
de  Clare  and  Melchior  might  be  one  and  the  same  person  ; 
nothing  was  too  absurd  or  improbable  for  my  imagination, 
and  I  had  now  means  of  bringing  home  my  suspicions.  '  I 
think,'  continued  I,  '  I  recollect  her — that  is,  she  is  a  very 
tall,  handsome  woman,  dark  eyes  and  complexion.' 

*  The  very  same,'  replied  he. 

My  heart  bounded  at  the  information  ;  it  certainly  was  not 
any  clue  to  my  own  parentage,  but  it  was  an  object  of  my 
solicitude,  and  connected  with  the  welfare  of  Fleta.  '  If  I 
recollect  right,'  observed  I,  '  there  are  some  curious  passages 
in  the  life  of  Sir  Henry  ?' 

*  Nothing  very  particular,'  observed  the  agent,  looking  out 
of  the  window. 

'  I  thought  that  he  had  disappeared  for  some  time.' 

'  Disappeared  !  he  certainly  did  not  live  in  Ireland,  because 

he   had   quarrelled  with  his   brother.      He   lived   in  England 

until  his  brother's  death.' 

'  How  did  his  brother  die,  sir  ?  ' 

*  Killed  by  a  fall  when  hunting,'  replied  the  agent.      '  He 
was  attempting  to  clear  a  stone  wall,  the  horse  fell  back  on 
him,  and  dislocated  his  spine.      I  was  on  the  spot  when  the 
accident  happened.' 

I  recollected  the  imperfect  communication  of  Fleta,  who 
had  heard  the  gipsy  say  that  '  he  was  dead ' ;  and  also  the 
word  horse  made  use  of,  and  I  now  felt  convinced  that  I  had 
found  out  Melchior.  *  Sir  Henry,  if  I  recollect  right,  has  no 
family,'  observed  I. 

199 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  No ;  and  I  am  afraid  there  is  but  little  chance.' 

'  Had  the  late  baronet,  his  elder  brother,  any  family  ? 

'  What,  Sir  William  ?  No  ;  or  Sir  Henry  would  not  have 
come  into  the  title.' 

1  He  might  have  had  daughters,'  replied  I. 

'  Very  true  ;  now  I  think  of  it,  there  was  a  girl,  who  died 
when  young.' 

*  Is  the  widow  of  Sir  William  alive  ? ' 

'  Yes  ;  and  a  very  fine  woman  she  is  ;  but  she  has  left 
Ireland  since  her  husband's  death.' 

I  did  not  venture  to  ask  any  more  questions.  Our  con- 
versation had  roused  Mr.  Cophagus  and  the  other  passenger ; 
and  as  I  had  reflected  how  I  should  behave  in  case  of  recogni- 
tion, I  wished  to  be  prepared  for  him.  « You  have  had  a  good 
nap,  sir,'  said  I,  turning  to  him. 

'Nap — yes — coach  nap,  bad — head  sore — and  so  on. 
Why — bless  me — Japhet — Japhet  New — yes — it  is.' 

'  Do  you  speak  to  me,  sir  ? '  inquired  I,  with  a  quiet  air. 

'  Speak  to  you — yes — bad  memory — hip  !  quite  forgot — 
old  master — shop  in  Smithfield — mad  bull — and  so  on.' 

'  Really,  sir,'  replied  I,  '  I  am  afraid  you  mistake  me  for 
some  other  person.' 

Mr.  Cophagus  looked  very  hard  at  me,  and  perceiving  that 
there  was  no  alteration  in  my  countenance,  exclaimed,  '  Very 
odd — same  nose — same  face — same  age  too — very  odd — like 
as  two  pills — beg  pardon — made  a  mistake — and  so  on.' 

Satisfied  with  the  discomfiture  of  Mr.  Cophagus,  I  turned 
round,  when  I  perceived  the  Irish  agent,  with  whom  I  had 
been  in  conversation,  eyeing  me  most  attentively.  As  I  said 
before,  he  was  a  hard-featured  man,  and  his  small  grey  eye 
was  now  fixed  upon  me,  as  if  it  would  have  pierced  me 
through.  I  felt  confused  for  a  moment,  as  the  scrutiny  was 
unexpected  from  that  quarter ;  but  a  few  moments'  reflection 
told  me,  that  if  Sir  Henry  de  Clare  and  Melchior  were  the  same 
person,  and  this  man  his  agent,  in  all  probability  he  had  not 
been  sent  to  England  for  nothing ;  that  if  he  was  in  search  of 
Fleta,  he  must  have  heard  of  my  name,  and  perhaps  some- 
thing of  my  history.  '  I  appear  to  have  a  great  likeness  to 
many  people,'  observed  I,  to  the  agent,  smiling.  *  It  was  but 
the  other  day  I  was  stopped  in  Bond  Street  as  a  Mr. 
Rawlinson.' 

200 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Not  a  very  common  face  either,  sir,'  observed  the  agent ; 
'if  once  seen  not  easily  forgotten,  nor  easily  mistaken  for 
another.' 

'  Still  such  appears  to  be  the  case,'  replied  I,  carelessly. 

We  now  stopped  to  take  refreshment.  I  had  risen  from 
the  table,  and  was  going  into  the  passage,  when  I  perceived 
the  agent  looking  over  the  way-bill  with  the  guard.  As  soon 
as  he  perceived  me,  he  walked  out  in  front  of  the  inn.  Before 
the  guard  had  put  up  the  bill,  I  requested  to  look  at  it, 
wishing  to  ascertain  if  I  had  been  booked  in  my  own  name. 
It  was  so.  The  four  names  were,  Newland,  Cophagus,  Baltzi, 
M'Dermott.  I  was  much  annoyed  at  this  circumstance. 
M'Dermott  was,  of  course,  the  name  of  the  agent ;  and  that 
was  all  the  information  I  received  in  return  for  my  own 
exposure,  which  I  now  considered  certain ;  I  determined, 
however,  to  put  a  good  face  on  the  matter,  and  when  we 
returned  to  the  coach,  again  entered  into  conversation  with 
Mr.  M'Dermott,  but  I  found  him  particularly  guarded  in  his 
replies  whenever  I  spoke  about  Sir  Henry  or  his  family,  and  I 
could  not  obtain  any  further  information.  Mr.  Cophagus 
could  not  keep  his  eyes  off  me — he  peered  into  my  face — then 
he  would  fall  back  in  the  coach.  *  Odd — very  odd — must  be 
— no — says  not — um.'  In  about  another  half  hour,  he  would 
repeat  his  examination,  and  mutter  to  himself.  At  last,  as  if 
tormented  with  his  doubts,  he  exclaimed,  'Beg  pardon — but 
— you  have  a  name  ? ' 

*  Yes,'  replied  I,  '  I  have  a  name.' 

1  Well,  then — not  ashamed.     What  is  it  ? ' 

1  My  name,  sir,'  replied  I,  '  is  Newland ' ;  for  I  had  resolved 
to  acknowledge  to  my  name,  and  fall  back  upon  a  new  line  of 
defence. 

'Thought  so — don't  know  me — don't  recollect  shop — Mr. 
Brookes's — Tim — rudiments — and  so  on.' 

'  I  have  not  the  least  objection  to  tell  you  my  name  ;  but  I 
am  afraid  you  have  the  advantage  in  your  recollection  of  me. 
Where  may  I  have  had  the  honour  of  meeting  you  ? ' 

'  Meeting — what,  quite  forgot — Smithfield  ? ' 

'  And  pray,  sir,  where  may  Smithfield  be  ? ' 

'Very  odd — can't  comprehend — same  name,  same  face — 
don't  recollect  me,  don't  recollect  Smithfield  ? ' 

'  It  may  be  very  odd,  sir  ;  but,  as  I  am  very  well  known 
201 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

in  London,  at  the  west  end,  perhaps  we  have  met  there. 
Lord  Windermear's,  perhaps — Lady  Maelstrom's?' — and  I 
continued  mentioning  about  a  dozen  of  the  most  fashionable 
names.  '  At  all  events,  you  appear  to  have  the  advantage  of 
me ;  but  I  trust  you  will  excuse  my  want  of  memory,  as  my 
acquaintance  is  very  extensive.' 

*  I  see — quite  a  mistake — same  name,  not  same  person — 
beg  pardon,  sir — apologies — and  so  on,'  replied  the  apothecary, 
drawing  in  a  long  sigh. 


CHAPTER   XLI 

I  turn  lawyer. 

I  WATCHED  the  countenance  of  the  agent,  who  appeared  at 
last  to  be  satisfied  that  there  had  been  some  mistake  ;  at  least 
he  became  more  communicative ;  and  as  I  no  longer  put  any 
questions  to  him  relative  to  Sir  Henry,  we  had  a  long  con- 
versation. I  spoke  to  him  about  the  De  Benyons,  making 
every  inquiry  that  I  could  think  of.  He  informed  me  that  the 
deceased  earl,  the  father  of  the  present,  had  many  sons,  who 
were  some  of  them  married,  and  that  the  family  was  extensive. 
He  appeared  to  know  them  all,  the  professions  which  they 
had  been  brought  up  to,  and  their  careers  in  life.  I  treasured 
up  his  information,  and,  as  soon  as  I  had  an  opportunity, 
wrote  down  all  which  he  had  told  me.  On  our  arrival  at 
Holyhead,  the  weather  was  very  boisterous,  and  the  packet 
was  to  depart  immediately.  Mr.  M'Dermott  stated  his 
intentions  to  go  over,  but  Mr.  Cophagus  and  the  professor 
declined  ;  and,  anxious  as  I  was  to  proceed,  I  did  not  wish  to 
be  any  longer  in  company  with  the  agent,  and,  therefore,  also 
declined  going  on  board.  Mr.  M'Dermott  called  for  a  glass 
of  brandy  and  water,  drank  it  off  in  haste,  and  then,  followed 
by  the  porter,  with  his  luggage,  went  down  to  embark. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  I  burst  into  a  fit  of  laughter. 
'Well,  Mr.  Cophagus,  acknowledge  that  it  is  possible  to 
persuade  a  man  out  of  his  senses.  You  knew  me,  and  you 
were  perfectly  right  in  asserting  that  I  was  Japhet,  yet  did 

202 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  persuade  you  at  last  that  you  were  mistaken.  But  I  will 
explain  to  you  why  I  did  so.' 

'  All  right/  said  the  apothecary,  taking  my  proffered  hand, 
'  thought  so — no  mistake — handsome  fellow — so  you  are — 
Japhet  Newland — my  apprentice — and  so  on.' 

'  Yes,  sir,'  replied  I,  laughing,  '  I  am  Japhet  Newland.' 
(I  turned  round,  hearing  a  noise,  the  door  had  been  opened, 
and  Mr.  M'Dennott  had  just  stepped  in;  he  had  returned 
for  an  umbrella,  which  he  had  forgotten  ;  he  looked  at  me, 
at  Mr.  Cophagus,  who  still  held  my  hand  in  his,  turned  short 
round,  said  nothing,  and  walked  out.)  'This  is  unfortunate,' 
observed  I  :  'my  reason  for  not  avowing  myself  was  to 
deceive  that  very  person,  and  now  I  have  made  the  avowal 
to  his  face ;  however,  it  cannot  be  helped.' 

I  sat  down  with  my  old  master,  and  as  I  knew  that  I 
could  confide  in  him,  gave  him  an  outline  of  my  life,  and 
stated  my  present  intentions. 

'  I  see,  Japhet,  I  see — done  mischief — sorry  for  it — can't 
be  helped — do  all  I  can — um — what's  to  be  done  ? — be  your 
friend — always  like  you — help  all  I  can — and  so  on.' 

'  But  what  would  you  advise,  sir  ? ' 

'Advice — bad  as  physic — nobody  takes  it — Ireland — wild 
place — no  law — better  go  back — leave  all  to  me — find  out — 
and  so  on.' 

This  advice  I  certainly  could  not  consent  to  follow. 

We  argued  the  matter  over  for  some  time,  and  then  it 
was  agreed  that  we  should  proceed  together.  I  was  informed 
by  Mr.  Cophagus  that  he  had  retired  with  a  very  handsome 
fortune,  and  was  living  in  the  country,  about  ten  miles  from 
the  metropolis  ;  that  he  had  been  summoned  to  attend  the 
funeral  of  a  maiden  aunt  in  Dublin,  who  had  left  him 
executor  and  residuary  legatee,  but  that  he  knew  nothing 
of  her  circumstances.  He  was  still  a  bachelor,  and  amused 
himself  in  giving  advice  and  medicines  gratis  to  the  poor 
people  of  the  village  in  which  he  resided,  there  being  no 
resident  practitioner  within  some  distance.  He  liked  the 
country  very  much,  but  there  was  one  objection  to  it — the 
cattle.  He  had  not  forgotten  the  mad  bull.  At  a  very  late 
hour  we  retired  to  our  beds  :  the  next  morning  the  weather 
had  moderated,  and,  on  the  arrival  of  the  mail,  we  embarked, 
and  had  a  very  good  passage  over.  On  my  arrival  at  Dublin 

203 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  directed  my  steps  to  the  F Hotel,  as  the  best  place 

to  make  inquiries  relative  to  Mr.  De  Benyon.  Mr.  Cophagus 
also  put  up  at  the  same  hotel,  and  we  agreed  to  share  a 
sitting-room. 

'  Waiter,'  said  I,  *  do  you  know  a  Mr.  De  Benyon  ? ' 
'  Yes,  sir,'  replied  he ;  '  there  is  one  of  the  De  Benyons  at 
the  hotel  at  this  moment.' 

*  Is  he  a  married  man  ? ' 

'  Yes — with  a  large  family.' 
'  What  is  his  Christian  name  ? ' 

'  I  really  cannot  tell,  sir ;  but  I'll  find  out  for  you  by  to- 
morrow morning.' 

'  When  does  he  leave  ? ' 
'To-morrow,  I  believe.' 

*  Do  you  know  where  he  goes  ? ' 
'  Yes,  sir,  to  his  own  seat.' 

The  waiter  left  the  room.  'Won't  do,  Japhet,'  said 
Cophagus.  '  Large  family — don't  want  more — hard  times, 
and  so  on.' 

'  No,'  replied  I,  'it  does  not  exactly  answer ;  but  I  may 
from  him  obtain  further  intelligence.' 

*  Won't  do,  Japhet — try  another  way — large  family — want 
all  uncle's  money — um — never  tell — good-night.' 

This  remark  of  Mr.  Cophagus  gave  me  an  idea,  upon 
which  I  proceeded  the  next  morning.  I  sent  in  my  card, 
requesting  the  honour  of  speaking  to  Mr.  De  Benyon,  stating 
that  I  had  come  over  to  Ireland  on  business  of  importance, 
but  that,  as  I  must  be  back  if  possible  by  term  time,  it  would 
perhaps  save  much  expense  and  trouble.  The  waiter  took 
in  the  message.  '  Back  by  term  time — it  must  be  some 
legal  gentleman.  Show  him  up,'  said  Mr.  De  Benyon. 

I  walked  in  with  a  business-like  air.  '  Mr.  De  Benyon,  I 
believe?' 

'  Yes,  sir ;  will  you  do  me  the  favour  to  take  a  chair  ? ' 

I  seated  myself,  and  drew  out  my  memorandum -book. 
*  My  object,  Mr.  De  Benyon,  in  troubling  you,  is  to  ascertain 
a  few  particulars  relative  to  your  family,  which  we  cannot 
so  easily  find  out  in  England.  There  is  a  property  which  it 
is  supposed  may  be  claimed  by  one  of  the  De  Benyons,  but 
which  we  cannot  ascertain  until  we  have  a  little  search  into 
the  genealogical  tree.' 

204 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  Is  the  property  large  ? '  inquired  Mr.  De  Benyon. 

'  Not  very  large,'  replied  I  ;  f  but  still  a"  very  handsome 
property,  I  am  told.5  The  reader  may  surmise  that  the 
property  referred  to  was  my  own  pretty  self.  'May  I  ask 
you  a  few  particulars  relative  to  the  present  earl  and  his 
brothers  ? ' 

'  Most  certainly,  sir,'  replied  Mr.  De  Benyon  ;  '  any  informa- 
tion I  can  give  you  will  be  at  your  service.  The  earl  has 
four  brothers.  The  eldest  Maurice.' 

*  Is  he  married  ?  ' 

*  Yes,  and  has  two  children.     The  next  is  William.' 

*  Is  he  married  ? ' 

'  No  ;  nor  has  he  ever  been.  He  is  a  general  in  the  army. 
The  third  is  myself,  Henry.' 

'  You  are  married,  I  believe,  sir  ? ' 

'  Yes,  with  a  large  family.' 

1  May  I  request  you  will  proceed,  sir  ? ' 

'  Arthur  is  the  fourth  brother.  He  is  lately  married,  and 
has  two  children.' 

'  Sir,  I  feel  much  obliged  to  you ;  it  is  a  curious  and 
intricate  affair.  As  I  am  here,  I  may  as  well  ask  one 
question,  although  not  of  great  consequence.  The  earl  is 
married,  I  perceive,  by  the  peerage,  but  I  do  not  find  that 
he  has  any  children.' 

*  On  the  contrary,  he  has  two — and  prospects  of  more.     May 
I  now  request  the  particulars  connected  with  this  property  ? ' 

'The  exact  particulars,  sir,  I  cannot  well  tell  you,  as  I 
am  not  acquainted  with  them  myself;  but  the  property  in 
question,  I  rather  think,  depends  upon  a  name.  May  I 
venture  to  ask  the  names  of  all  your  children  ? ' 

Mr.  De  Benyon  gave  me  a  list  seriatim,  which  I  put  down 
with  great  gravity. 

'  Of  course,  there  is  no  doubt  of  your  second  brother  not 
being  married.  I  believe  we  ought  to  have  a  certificate.  Do 
you  know  his  address  ? ' 

*  He  has  been   in  the  East  Indies  for  many  years.      He 
returned  home  on  furlough,  and  has  now  just  sailed   again 
for  Calcutta.' 

*  That  is  unfortunate  ;   we  must  forward   a  letter  through 
the  Indian  Board.      May  I  also  be  favoured  with  your  address, 
as  in  all  probability  it  may  be  advisable  ? ' 

205 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Mr.  De  Benyon  gave  me  his  address.  I  rose,  promised 
to  give  him  all  the  particulars  as  soon  as  they  were  known  to 
me,  bowed,  and  made  my  exit.  To  one  who  was  in  his 
sober  senses,  there  certainly  was  not  any  important  informa- 
tion gained ;  but  to  me,  it  was  evident  that  the  Mr.  De 
Benyon  who  was  a  general  in  the  army  was  to  be  interrogated, 
and  I  had  almost  made  up  my  mind  to  set  off  for  Calcutta. 


CHAPTER   XLII 

I  affront  an  Irish  gentleman  and  make  a  handsome  apology, 
which  is  accepted 

BEFORE  I  had  gained  my  own  room,  I  informed  Mr.  Cophagus, 
who  had  just  returned  from  a  visit  to  his  maiden  aunt's  house, 
of  what  had  passed. 

1  Can't  see  anything  in  it,  Japhet — wild-goose  chase — 
who  told  you  ? — oh  !  Pleggit's  men — sad  liars — De  Benyon 
not  name,  depend  upon  it — all  stuff,  and  so  on.' 

And  when  I  reflected,  I  could  but  acknowledge  that  the 
worthy  apothecary  might  be  right,  and  that  I  was  running 
after  shadows ;  but  this  was  only  in  my  occasional  fits  of 
despondency :  I  soon  rallied,  and  was  as  sanguine  as  ever. 
Undecided  how  to  proceed,  and  annoyed  by  what  Cophagus 
had  said,  I  quitted  the  hotel,  to  walk  out  in  no  very  good 
humour.  As  I  went  out,  I  perceived  the  agent  M'Dermott 
speaking  to  the  people  in  the  bar,  and  the  sight  of  him 
reminded  me  of  what,  for  a  moment,  I  had  forgotten,  which 
was,  to  ascertain  whether  Melchior  and  Sir  Henry  de  Clare 
were  one  and  the  same  person.  As  I  passed  a  crossing,  a 
man  in  tattered  habiliments,  who  was  sweeping  it,  asked  for 
alms,  but  being  in  no  very  charitable  humour,  I  walked  on. 
He  followed  me,  pestering  me  so  much,  that  I  gave  him  a 
tap  with  the  cane  in  my  hand,  saying  to  him,  '  Be  off,  you 
scoundrel.' 

'  Oh  !  very  well.  Be  off,  is  it  you  mane  ?  By  the  blood 
of  the  O'Rourkes  but  you'll  answer  for  that  same,  anyhow.3 

I  passed  on,  and  having  perambulated  the  city  of  Dublin 
for  some  time,  returned  to  the  hotel.  A  few  minutes  after- 

206 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

wards,  I  was  told  by  the  waiter  that  a  Mr.  O'Donaghan 
wished  to  speak  to  me.  '  I  have  not  the  honour  of  his 
acquaintance/  replied  I,  *  but  you  may  show  him  up.3 

Mr.  O'Donaghan  entered,  a  tall,  thick-whiskered  personage, 
in  a  shabby-genteel  dress,  evidently  not  made  for  him,  a  pair 
of  white  cotton  gloves,  and  a  small  stick.  '  I  believe  that  I 
have  the  honour  of  spaking  to  the  gentleman  who  crossed  over 
the  street  about  two  hours  ago  ? ' 

'Upon  my  word,  sir,'  replied  I,  'that  is  so  uncertain  a 
definition  that  I  can  hardly  pretend  to  say  whether  I  am  the 
person  you  mean  ;  indeed,  from  not  having  the  pleasure  of 
any  one's  acquaintance  in  Dublin,  I  rather  think  there  must 
be  some  mistake.' 

'  The  devil  a  bit  of  a  mistake,  at  all  at  all ;  for  there's  the 
little  bit  of  a  cane  with  which  you  paid  my  friend,  Mr. 
O'Rourke,  the  compliment  over  his  shoulders.' 

'  I  really  am  quite  mystified,  sir,  and  do  not  understand 
you  ;  will  you  favour  me  with  an  explanation  ? ' 

'  With  all  the  pleasure  in  life,  for  then  we  shall  come  to  a 
right  understanding.  You  were  crossing  the  street,  and  a 
gentleman,  a  particular  friend  of  mine,  with  a  broom  which  he 
carries  for  his  own  amusement,  did  himself  the  honour  to 
address  you,  whereupon,  of  that  same  little  stick  of  yours,  you 
did  him  the  honour  to  give  him  a  slight  taste.' 

'  What  do  you  mean  ?  do  you  refer  to  the  sweeper,  who 
was  so  importunate  when  I  crossed  over  the  road  ? ' 

'  Then,  by  the  powers,  you've  just  hit  it,  as  you  did  him. 
That's  my  particular  friend,  Thaddeus  O'Rourke,  gentleman.' 

'  Gentleman  ! '  exclaimed  I. 

*  And  with  as  good  and  as  true  Milesian  blood  as  any  in 
Ireland.  If  you  think,  sir,  that  because  my  friend,  just  for  his 
own  amusement,  thinks  proper  to  put  on  the  worst  of  his 
clothes  and  carry  a  broom,  just  by  way  of  exercise,  to  prevent 
his  becoming  too  lusty,  he  is  therefore  to  be  struck  like  a 
hound,  it's  a  slight  mistake,  that's  all ;  and  here,  sir,  is  his 
card ;  and  you  will  oblige  me  by  mentioning  any  friend  of  yours 
with  whom  I  may  settle  all  the  little  points  necessary  before 
the  meeting  of  two  gentlemen.' 

I  could  hardly  refrain  from  laughing  at  this  Irish  gentleman 
and  his  friend,  but  I  thought  it  advisable  to  retain  my 
countenance.  *  My  dear  sir,'  replied  I,  '  it  grieves  me  to  the 

207 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

heart  that  I  should  have  committed  such  an  error,  in  not 
perceiving  the  gentility  of  your  friend  ;  had  I  not  been  so 
careless,  I  certainly  should  have  requested  him  to  do  me  the 
honour  to  accept  a  shilling,  instead  of  having  offered  him  the 
insult.  I  hope  it  is  not  now  too  late  ? ' 

'  By  the  powers,  I'm  not  one  of  those  harum-scarum  sort, 
who  would  make  up  a  fight  when  there's  no  occasion  for  it, 
and  as  your  'haviour  is  that  of  a  gentleman,  I  think  it  will 
perhaps  be  better  to  shake  hands  upon  it,  and  forget  it 
altogether.  Suppose  now,  we'll  consider  that  it  was  all  a 
mistake  ?  You  give  the  shilling  as  you  intended  to  do,  I'll 
swear  only  you  were  in  so  great  a  hurry — and  then,  perhaps, 
you'll  not  object  to  throw  in  another  shilling  for  that  same  tap 
with  the  cane,  just  to  wipe  off  the  insult,  as  it  were,  as  we  do 
our  sins,  when  we  fork  out  the  money,  and  receive  absolution 
from  the  padre  ;  and  then,  perhaps,  you  will  not  think  it  too 
much  if  I  charge  another  shilling  for  my  time  and  trouble,  for 
carrying  a  message  between  two  gentlemen.' 

*  On  the  contrary,  Mr.  O'Donaghan,  I  think  all  your 
demands  are  reasonable.  Here  is  the  money.' 

Mr.  O'Donaghan  took  the  three  shillings.  '  Then,  sir,  and 
many  thanks  to  you,  I'll  wish  you  a  good  evening,  and  Mr. 
O'Rourke  shall  know  from  me  that  you  have  absolution  for 
the  whole,  and  that  you  have  offered  every  satisfaction  which 
one  gentleman  could  expect  from  another.'  So  saying,  Mr. 
O'Donaghan  put  his  hat  on  with  a  firm  cock,  pulled  on  his 
gloves,  manoeuvred  his  stick,  and,  with  a  flourishing  bow, 
took  his  departure. 

I  had  hardly  dismissed  this  gentleman,  and  was  laughing 
to  myself  at  the  ridiculous  occurrence,  when  Mr.  Cophagus 
returned,  first  putting  his  cane  up  to  his  nose  with  an  arch 
look,  and  then  laying  it  down  on  the  table  and  rubbing  his 
hands.  'Good — warm  old  lady.  .No — dead  and  cold — but 
left  some  thousands — only  one  legacy — old  tom-cat — physic 
him  to-morrow — soon  die,  and  so  on.' 

On  a  more  full  explanation,  I  found  that  the  old  lady  had 
left  about  nine  thousand  pounds  in  the  funds  and  bank 
securities,  all  of  which,  with  the  exception  of  twenty  pounds 
per  annum  to  a  favourite  cat,  was  left  to  Mr.  Cophagus.  I 
congratulated  him  upon  this  accession  of  fortune.  He  stated 
that  the  lease  of  the  house  and  the  furniture  were  still  to  be 

208 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

disposed  of,  and  that  afterwards  he  should  have  nothing  more 
to  do ;  but  he  wished  me  very  much  to  assist  him  in 
rummaging  over  the  various  cabinets  belonging  to  the  old 
lady,  and  which  were  full  of  secret  drawers ;  that  in  one 


'  Afr.  0 '  Donaghan  pulled  on  his  gloves' 
Copyright  1894  by  Macmillan  &•  Co. 

cabinet  alone  he  had  found  upwards  of  fifty  pounds  in  various 
gold  coins,  and  that  if  not  well  examined,  they  would  probably 
be  sold  with  many  articles  of  consequence  remaining  in  them. 
As  my  only  object  in  Ireland  was  to  find  out  Sir  Henry  de 
P  209 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Clare,  and  identify  him  (but,  really,  why  I  could  not  have 
said,  as  it  would  have  proved  nothing  after  all),  I  willingly 
consented  to  devote  a  day  to  assist  Mr.  Cophagus  in  his 
examination.  The  next  morning  after  breakfast,  we  went 
together  to  the  house  of  the  old  lady,  whose  name  had  been 
Maitland,  as  Mr.  Cophagus  informed  me.  Her  furniture  was 
of  the  most  ancient  description,  and  in  every  room  in  the 
house  there  was  an  ormolu  or  Japan  cabinet ;  some  of  them 
were  very  handsome,  decorated  with  pillars,  and  silver  orna- 
ments. I  can  hardly  recount  the  variety  of  articles,  which  in 
all  probability  had  been  amassed  during  the  whole  of  the  old 
lady's  life,  commencing  with  her  years  of  childhood,  and 
ending  with  the  day  of  her  death.  There  were  antique 
ornaments,  some  of  considerable  value,  miniatures,  fans, 
etuis,  notes,  of  which  the  ink,  from  time,  had  turned  to  a 
light  red,  packages  of  letters  of  her  various  correspondents  in 
her  days  of  hope  and  anticipation,  down  to  those  of  solitude 
and  age.  We  looked  over  some  of  them,  but  they  appeared 
to  both  of  us  to  be  sacred,  and  they  were,  after  a  slight 
examination,  committed  to  the  flames. 

After  we  had  examined  all  the  apparent  receptacles  in 
these  cabinets,  we  took  them  up  between  us,  and  shook  them, 
and  in  most  cases  found  out  that  there  were  secret  drawers 
containing  other  treasures.  There  was  one  packet  of  letters 
which  caught  my  eye,  it  was  from  a  Miss  De  Benyon.  I  seized 
it  immediately,  and  showed  the  inscription  to  Mr.  Cophagus. 
'  Pooh — nothing  at  all — her  mother  was  a  De  Benyon.' 

'  Have  you  any  objection  to  my  looking  at  these  letters  ? ' 

'  No — read — nothing  in  them.' 

I  laid  them  on  one  side,  and  we  proceeded  in  our  search, 
when  Mr.  Cophagus  took  up  a  sealed  packet.  *  Heh  !  what's 
this — De  Benyon  again  ?  Japhet,  look  here.' 

I  took  the  packet ;  it  was  sealed  and  tied  with  red  tape. 
'  Papers  belonging  to  Lieutenant  William  de  Benyon,  to  be 
returned  to  him  at  my  decease.'  'Alice  Maitland,  with  great 
care,'  was  written  at  the  bottom  of  the  envelope. 

'  This  is  it,  my  dear  sir,'  cried  I,  jumping  up  and  embracing 
Mr.  Cophagus  ;  '  these  are  the  papers  which  I  require.  May 
I  keep  them  ? ' 

*  Mad — quite  mad — go  to  Bedlam — strait  waistcoat — head 
shaved — and  so  on.' 

210 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER   XLIII 

I  am  not  content  with  minding  my  own  business,  but  must  have  a  hand 
in  that  of  others,  by  which  means  I  put  my  foot-  in  it. 

HE  then,  after  his  own  fashion,  told  me,  that,  as  executor,  he 
must  retain  those  papers  ;  pointed  out  to  me  the  little  prob- 
ability there  was  of  their  containing  any  information  relative 
to  my  birth,  even  allowing  that  a  person  of  the  name  of  De 
Benyon  did  call  at  the  Foundling  to  ask  for  me,  which  was 
only  a  supposition  ;  and,  finally,  overthrew  all  the  hopes  which 
had  been,  for  so  many  days,  buoying  me  up.  When  he  had 
finished,  I  threw  myself  upon  the  sofa  in  despair,  and  wished, 
at  the  moment,  that  I  had  never  been  born.  Still  hope  again 
rose  uppermost,  and  I  would  have  given  all  I  possessed  to 
have  been  able  to  break  open  the  seals  of  that  packet,  and 
have  read  the  contents.  At  one  moment  I  was  so  frantic, 
that  I  was  debating  whether  I  should  not  take  them  from  Mr. 
Cophagus  by  force,  and  run  off  with  them.  At  last  I  rose, 
and  commenced  reading  the  letters  which  I  had  put  aside, 
but  there  was  nothing  in  them  but  the  trifling  communications 
of  two  young  women,  who  mentioned  what  was  amusing  to 
them,  but  uninteresting  to  those  who  were  not  acquainted 
with  the  parties. 

When  we  had  finished,  Mr.  Cophagus  collected  all 
together,  and  putting  them  into  a  box,  we  returned  in  a  coach 
to  the  hotel.  The  next  day  Mr.  Cophagus  had  completed  all 
his  arrangements,  and  the  day  following  had  determined  to 
return  to  England.  I  walked  with  him  down  to  the  vessel, 
and  watched  it  for  an  hour  after  it  had  sailed,  for  it  bore  away 
a  packet  of  papers,  which  I  could  not  help  imagining  were  to 
discover  the  secret  which  I  was  so  eager  in  pursuit  of.  A 
night's  sleep  made  me  more  rational,  and  I  now  resolved  to 
ascertain  where  Sir  Henry  de  Clare,  or  Melchior,  as  I  felt 
certain  he  must  be,  was  to  be  found.  I  sent  for  the  waiter, 
and  asked  him  if  he  could  inform  me.  He  immediately 
replied  in  the  affirmative,  and  gave  his  address,  Mount  Castle, 
Connemara,  asking  me  when  I  intended  to  set  out.  It  did 
not  strike  me  till  afterwards,  that  it  was  singular  that  he 

211 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

should  be  so  well  acquainted  with  the  address,  and  that  he 
should  have  produced  a  card  with  it  written  upon  it ;  or, 
moreover,  that  he  should  know  that  it  was  my  intention  to  go 
there.  I  took  the  address,  and  desired  that  I  might  have 
horses  ready  very  early  the  next  morning.  I  then  sat  down 
and  wrote  a  letter  to  Harcourt,  informing  him  of  my  proceed- 
ings, also  one  to  Mr.  Masterton  much  more  explicit,  lastly  to 
Timothy,  to  the  care  of  Harcourt,  requesting  him  to  let  me 
know  what  had  occurred  between  him  and  the  gipsies.  After 
dinner,  I  packed  up  ready  for  my  journey,  and  having  settled 
my  bill,  I  was  not  sorry  to  retire  to  my  bed. 

At  daylight  I  was,  as  I  requested,  called  by  the  waiter ; 
and  taking  with  me  only  a  very  small  portmanteau,  having 
left  the  rest  of  my  effects  in  the  charge  of  the  people  who 
kept  the  hotel,  I  set  off  in  a  post-chaise  on  my  expedition. 
I  was  soon  clear  of  the  city,  and  on  a  fine  smooth  road,  and, 
as  I  threw  myself  back  in  the  corner  of  the  chaise,  I  could 
not  help  asking  myself  the  question — what  was  the  purport  of 
my  journey  ?  As  the  reader  will  perceive,  I  was  wholly 
governed  by  impulses,  and  never  allowed  reason  or  common 
sense  to  stand  in  the  way  of  my  feelings.  *  What  have  I  to 
do  ? '  replied  I  to  myself ;  '  to  find  out  if  Melchior  and  Sir 
Henry  de  Clare  be  not  one  and  the  same  person.  And  what 
then  ?  What  then  ? — why  then  I  may  find  out  something 
relative  to  Fleta's  parentage.  Nay,  but  is  that  likely — if,  as 
you  suppose,  Melchior  is  Sir  Henry  de  Clare — if,  as  you 
suppose,  it  is  he  who  is  now  trying  to  find  out  and  carry  off 
Fleta — is  it  probable  that  you  will  gain  any  information  from 
him  ?  I  have  an  idea  that  Fleta  is  the  little  girl  said  to  have 
died,  who  was  the  child  of  his  elder  brother.  Why  so  ? 
What  interest  could  Melchior  have  in  stealing  his  own  niece  ? 
That  I  cannot  tell.  Why  did  Nattee  give  me  the  necklace  ? 
I  cannot  tell  ;  she  would  hardly  betray  her  husband.  At  all 
events,  there  is  a  mystery,  and  it  can  only  be  unravelled  by 
being  pulled  at ;  and  I  may  learn  something  by  meeting 
Melchior,  whereas  I  shall  learn  nothing  by  remaining  quiet.' 
This  last  idea  satisfied  me  ;  and  for  many  hours  I  remained 
in  a  train  of  deep  thought,  only  checked  by  paying  for  the 
horses  at  the  end  of  every  stage. 

It  was  now  past  twelve  o'clock,  when  I  found  that  it  was 
necessary  to  change  the  chaise  at  every  post.  The  country 

212 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

also,  as  well  as  the  roads,  had  changed  much  for  the  worse. 
Cultivation  was  not  so  great,  the  roads  were  mountainous, 
and  civilisation  generally  disappeared.  It  was  nearly  dark 
when  I  arrived  at  the  last  post,  from  whence  I  was  to  take 
horses  to  Mount  Castle.  As  usual,  the  chaise  also  was  to  be 
changed ;  and  I  could  not  help  observing  that  each  change 
was  from  bad  to  worse.  Rope  harness  was  used,  and  the 
vehicles  themselves  were  of  the  most  crazy  condition.  Still  I 
had  travelled  very  fairly ;  for  an  Irish  postilion  knows  how  to 
make  an  Irish  horse  go  a  very  fair  pace.  I  descended  from 
the  chaise,  and  ordered  another  out  immediately.  To  this 
there  was  no  reply,  except,  *  Wait,  your  honour ;  step  in  a 
moment,  and  rest  from  your  fatigue  a  little.'  Presuming  this 
was  merely  to  give  them  time  to  get  ready,  I  walked  into  the 
room  of  the  inn,  which  indeed  was  very  little  better  than  a 
hovel,  and  sat  down  by  the  turf  fire  in  company  with  some 
others,  whom  I  could  hardly  distinguish  for  smoke.  I  paid 
the  chaise  and  postilion,  and  soon  afterwards  heard  it  drive 
off,  on  its  way  back.  After  a  few  minutes  I  inquired  if  the 
chaise  was  getting  ready. 

'  Is  it  the  chaise  your  honour  means  ?'  said 'the  landlady. 

'  Yes,'  replied  I  ;  '  a  chaise  on  to  Mount  Castle.' 

'  Then  I  am  sorry  that  your  honour  must  wait  a  little  ;  for 
our  chaise,  and  the  only  one  which  we  have,  is  gone  to  the 
castle,  and  won't  be  back  till  long  after  the  moon  is  up. 
What  will  your  honour  please  to  take  ? ' 

'  Not  back  till  moonlight ! '  replied  I  ;  '  why  did  you  not 
say  so  ?  and  I  would  have  gone  on  with  the  other.' 

'  Is  it  with  the  other  you  mane,  your  honour  ?  Then  if 
Teddy  Driscoll  could  make  his  horses  go  one  step  farther  than 
our  door,  may  I  never  have  a  soul  to  be  saved.  Will  your 
honour  please  to  sit  in  the  little  room  ?  Kathleen  shall  light 
a  fire.' 

Vexed  as  I  was  with  the  idea  of  passing  the  night  in  this 
horrid  place,  there  was  no  help  for  it ;  so  I  took  up  my 
portmanteau,  and  followed  the  landlady  to  a  small  room,  if  it 
deserved  the  appellation,  which  had  been  built  after  the 
cottage,  and  a  door  broken  through  the  wall  into  it.  Ceiling 
there  was  none ;  it  had  only  lean-to  rafters,  with  tiles  over- 
head. I  took  a  seat  on  the  only  stool  that  was  in  the  room, 
and  leant  my  elbow  on  the  table  in  no  very  pleasant  humour, 

213 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

when  I  heard  the  girl  say,  'And  why  don't  you  let  him  go  on 
to  the  castle  ?  Sure  the  chaise  is  in  the  yard,  and  the  horses 
are  in  the  stable.3 

'  There's  orders  'gainst  it,  Kathleen,'  replied  the  landlady. 
'Mr.  M'Dermott  was  here  this  blessed  day,  and  who  can 
deny  him  ? ' 

'  Who  is  he,  then  ? '  replied  the  girl. 

'  An  attorney  with  a  warrant  against  Sir  Henry ;  and, 
moreover,  they  say  that  he's  coming  to  'strain  upon  the  cattle 
of  Jerry  O'Toole  for  the  tithes.' 

'  He's  a  bould  young  chap,  at  all  events,'  replied  the  girl, 
'  to  come  here  all  by  himself.' 

'  Oh  !  but  it's  not  till  to-morrow  morning,  and  then  we'll 
have  the  troops  here  to  assist  him.' 

'  And  does  Jerry  O'Toole  know  of  this  ? ' 

'  Sure  enough  he  does ;  and  I  hope  there'll  be  no  murder 
committed  in  my  house  this  blessed  night.  But  what  can  a 
poor  widow  do  when  M'Dermott  holds  up  his  finger?  Now, 
go  light  the  fire,  Kathleen,  and  see  if  the  poor  young  man 
wants  anything  ;  it's  a  burning  pity  that  he  shouldn't  have 
something  to  comfort  him  before  his  misfortunes  fall  upon 
him.' 

Kathleen  made  no  reply.  The  horror  that  I  felt  at  this 
discourse  may  easily  be  imagined.  That  it  was  intended 
that  I  should  meet  with  foul  play  was  certain,  and  I  knew 
very  well  that,  in  such  a  desolate  part  of  the  country,  the 
murder  of  an  individual,  totally  unknown,  would  hardly  be 
noticed.  That  I  had  been  held  up  to  the  resentment  of  the 
inhabitants  as  a  tithe-collector,  and  an  attorney  with  a  warrant, 
was  quite  sufficient,  I  felt  conscious,  to  induce  them  to  make 
away  with  me.  How  to  undeceive  them  was  the  difficulty. 


CHAPTER   XLIV 

No  hopes  of  rising  next  morning  alive — As  a  last  chance,  I  get  into  bed. 

KATHLEEN  came  in  with  fuel  to  light  the  fire,  and  looking 
rather  hard  at  me,  passed  by,  and  was  soon  busy  blowing  up 
the  turf.  She  was  a  very  handsome  dark-eyed  girl,  about 

214 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

nineteen  years  of  age,  stout,  and  well  made.     *  What  is  your 
name  ?'  said  I. 


'  "  What  is  your  name  ?  "  said  /.' 
Copyright  1894  by  Macmillan  &•  Co. 

'  Kathleen,  at  your  service,  sir.' 

1  Listen  to  me,   Kathleen,'   said   I,   in  a  low  voice.      '  You 
are  a  woman,  and  all  women  are  kind-hearted.      I  have  over- 

2I5 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

heard  all  that  passed  between  your  mistress  and  you,  and  that 
M'Dermott  has  stated  that  I  am  a  tithe -collector,  and  an 
attorney  with  a  warrant.  I  am  no  such  thing.  I  am  a 
gentleman  who  wishes  to  speak  to  Sir  Henry  de  Clare  on  a 
business  which  he  does  not  like  to  be  spoken  to  about ;  and 
to  show  you  what  I  say  is  the  truth,  it  is  about  the  daughter 
of  his  elder  brother,  who  was  killed  when  hunting,  and  who  is 
supposed  to  be  dead.  I  am  the  only  evidence  to  the  contrary  ; 
and,  therefore,  he  and  M'Dermott  have  spread  this  report  that 
I  may  come  to  harm.' 

1  Is  she  alive,  then  ?'  replied  Kathleen,  looking  up  to  me 
with  wonder. 

'  Yes  ;  and  I  will  not  tell  Sir  Henry  where  she  is,  and  that 
is  the  reason  of  their  enmity.' 

*  But  I  saw  her  body,'  replied  the  girl  in  a  low  voice,  stand- 
ing up,  and  coming  close  to  me. 

'  It  was  not  hers,  depend  upon  it,'  replied  I,  hardly  know- 
ing what  to  answer  to  this  assertion. 

*  At  all  events,  it  was  dressed  in  her  clothes  ;  but  it  was  so 
long  before  it  was  discovered,  that  we  could  make  nothing  of 
the    features.     Well,    I  knew  the  poor    little    thing,    for  my 
mother  nursed  her.      I  was  myself  brought  up  at   the  castle, 
and  lived  there  till  after  Sir  William  was  killed  ;  then  we  were 
all  sent  away.' 

«  Kathleen  !   Kathleen  !'  cried  the  landlady. 
'  Call  for  everything  you  can  think  of  one  after  another,' 
whispered  Kathleen,  leaving  the  room. 

*  I  cannot  make  the  peat  burn,'  said  she  to  the  landlady, 
after   she  had  quitted  the  little  room  ;  *  and  the   gentleman 
wants  some  whisky.' 

'  Go  out  then,  and  get  some  from  the  middle  of  the  stack, 
Kathleen,  and  be  quick  ;  we  have  others  to  attend  besides  the 
tithe-proctor.  There's  the  O'Tooles  all  come  in,  and  your 
own  Corny  is  with  them.' 

'  My  Corny,  indeed  !'  replied  Kathleen  ;  '  he's  not  quite  so 
sure  of  that.' 

In  a  short  time  Kathleen  returned,  and  brought  some  dry 
peat  and  a  measure  of  whisky.  *  If  what  you  say  is  true,' 
said  Kathleen,  '  and  sure  enough  you're  no  Irish,  and  very 
young  for  a  tithe-proctor,  who  must  grow  old  before  he  can 
be  such  a  villain,  you  are  in  no  very  pleasant  way.  The 

216 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

O'Tooles  are  here,  and  I've  an  idea  they  mean  no  good  ;  for 
they  sit  with  all  their  heads  together,  whispering  to  each 
other,  and  all  their  shillelaghs  by  their  sides.' 

'  Tell  me,  Kathleen,  was  the  daughter  of  Sir  William  a 
fair-haired,  blue-eyed  girl  ?' 

'  To  be  sure  she  was,'  replied  Kathleen,  *  and  like  a  little 
mountain  fairy.3 

1  Now,  Kathleen,  tell  me  if  you  recollect  if  the  little  girl  or 
her  mother  ever  wore  a  necklace  of  red  beads  mixed  with 
gold.' 

'  Yes,  that  my  lady  did  ;  and  it  was  on  the  child's  neck 
when  it  was  lost,  and  when  the  body  was  found  it  was  not 
with  it.  Well  I  recollect  that,  for  my  mother  said  the  child 
must  have  been  drowned  or  murdered  for  the  sake  of  the  gold 
beads.' 

*  Then  you  have  proved  all  I  wished,  Kathleen  ;  and  now  I 
tell  you  that  this  little  girl  is  alive,  and  that  I  can  produce  the 
necklace  which  was  lost  with  her  ;  and  more,   that  she  was 
taken  away  by  Sir  Henry  himself.' 

'  Merciful  Jesus  ! '  replied  Kathleen  ;  '  the  dear  little  child 
that  we  cried  over  so  much.' 

*  But  now,  Kathleen,  I  have  told  you  this,  to  prove  to  you 
that   I  am  not  what  M'Dermott  has  asserted,  no  doubt,  with 
the  intention  that  my  brains  shall  be  knocked  out  this  night.' 

*  And  so  they  will,  sure  enough,'  replied  Kathleen,  *  if  you 
do  not  escape.' 

'  But  how  am  I  to  escape  ?  and  will  you  assist  me  ?'  And 
I  laid  down  on  the  table  ten  guineas  from  my  purse.  '  Take 
that,  Kathleen,  and  it  will  help  you  and  Corny.  Now  will 
you  assist  me  ?' 

'  It's  Corny  that  will  be  the  first  to  knock  your  brains  out,' 
replied  Kathleen,  '  unless  I  can  stop  him.  I  must  go  now, 
and  I'll  see  what  can  be  done.' 

Kathleen  would  have  departed  without  touching  the  gold  ; 
but  I  caught  her  by  the  wrist,  collected  it,  and  put  it  into  her 
hand.  '  That's  not  like  a  tithe-proctor,  at  all  events,'  replied 
Kathleen  ;  '  but  my  heart  aches  and  my  head  swims,  and 
what's  to  be  done  I  know  not.'  So  saying,  Kathleen  quitted 
the  room. 

'  Well,'  thought  I,  after  she  had  left  the  room,  «  at  all 
events,  I  have  not  been  on  a  wrong  scent  this  time.  Kath- 

217 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

leen  has  proved  to  me  that  Fleta  is  the  daughter  of  the  late 
Sir  William  ;  and  if  I  escape  this  snare,  Melchior  shall  do  her 
justice.'  Pleased  with  my  having  so  identified  Melchior  and 
Fleta,  I  fell  into  a  train  of  thought,  and  for  the  first  time  for- 
got my  perilous  situation  ;  but  I  was  roused  from  my  medita- 
tions by  an  exclamation  from  Kathleen.  '  No,  no,  Corny,  nor 
any  of  ye — not  now — and  mother  and  me  to  witness  it — it 
shall  not  be.  Corny,  hear  me,  as  sure  as  blood's  drawn,  and 
we  up  to  see  it,  so  sure  does  Corny  O'Toole  never  touch  this 
hand  of  mine.'  A  pause,  and  whispering  followed,  and  again 
all  appeared  to  be  quiet.  I  unstrapped  my  portmanteau,  took 
out  my  pistols,  which  were  loaded,  re-primed  them,  and  re- 
mained quiet,  determined  to  sell  my  life  as  dearly  as  possible. 

It  was  more  than  half  an  hour  before  Kathleen  returned  ; 
she  looked  pale  and  agitated.  *  Keep  quiet,  and  do  not  think 
of  resistance,'  said  she ;  '  it  is  useless.  I  have  told  my 
mother  all,  and  she  believes  you,  and  will  risk  her  life  to  save 
him  who  has  watched  over  the  little  girl  whom  she  nursed  ; 
but  keep  quiet,  we  shall  soon  have  them  all  out  of  the  house. 
Corny  dare  not  disobey  me,  and  he  will  persuade  the  others.' 

She  then  went  out  again,  and  did  not  return  for  nearly  an 
hour,  when  she  was  accompanied  by  her  mother.  (  Kathleen 
has  told  me  all,  young  sir,'  said  she,  '  and  do  what  we  can, 
we  will  ;  but  we  hardly  know  what  to  do.  To  go  to  the 
castle  would  be  madness.' 

*  Yes,'  replied    I  :   '  but  cannot  you  give  me  one  of  your 
horses  to  return  the  way  I  came  ? ' 

'  That  was  our  intention  ;  but  I  find  that  the  O'Tooles 
have  taken  them  all  out  of  the  stable  to  prevent  me  ;  and  the 
house  is  watched.  They  will  come  at  midnight  and  attack 
us,  that  I  fully  expect,  and  how  to  conceal  you  puzzles  my 
poor  head.' 

*  If  they  come,  we  can  but   persuade  them  that  he  has 
escaped,'   replied    Kathleen  ;  '  they  will  no  longer  watch   the 
house,  and  he  will  then  have  some  chance.' 

'There  is  but  one  chance,'  replied  the  mother,  who  took 
Kathleen  aside,  and  whispered  to  her.  Kathleen  coloured  to 
the  forehead,  and  made  no  reply.  '  If  your  mother  bids  you, 
Kathleen,  there  can  be  no  harm.' 

'  Yes  ;  but  if  Corny  was ' 

'  He  dare  not,'  replied  the  mother  ;  '  and  now  put  this 
218 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

light  out,  and  do  you  get  into  bed,  sir,  with  your  clothes  on.' 
They  led  me  to  a  small  bed-room,  a  miserable  affair  ;  but  in 
that  part  of  the  country  considered  respectable.  '  Lie  down 
there,'  said  the  mother,  '  and  wait  till  we  call  you.'  They 
took  the  light  away,  and  left  me  to  my  myself  and  my  own 
reflections,  which  were  anything  but  pleasant.  I  lay  awake, 
it  might  be  for  two  hours,  when  I  heard  the  sound  of  feet, 
and  then  a  whispering  under  the  window,  and  shortly  after- 
wards a  loud  knocking  at  the  door,  which  they  were  attempt- 
ing to  burst  open.  Every  moment  I  expected  that  it  would 
yield  to  the  violence  which  was  made  use  of,  when  the 
mother  came  down  half  dressed,  with  a  light  in  her  hand, 
hastened  to  me,  and  desired  me  to  follow  her.  I  did  so,  and 
before  she  left  my  room,  she  threw  the  window  wide  open. 
She  led  me  up  a  sort  of  half-stairs,  half-ladder,  to  a  small 
room,  where  I  found  Kathleen  sitting  up  in  her  bed,  and 
half-dressed.  *  O  mother  !  mother  ! '  cried  Kathleen. 

'  I  bid  ye  do  it,  child,'  replied  the  mother,  desiring  me  to 
creep  into  her  daughter's  bed,  and  cover  myself  up  on  the 
side  next  the  wall. 

*  Let  me  put  on  more  clothes,  mother.' 

e  No,  no,  if  you  do,  they  will  suspect,  and  will  not  hesitate 
to  search.  Your  mother  bids  you.' 

The  poor  girl  was  burning  with  shame  and  confusion. 

'  Nay,'  replied  I,  *  if  Kathleen  does  not  wish  it,  I  will  not 
buy  my  safety  at  the  expense  of  her  feelings.' 

'  Yes,  yes,'  replied  Kathleen,  *  I  don't  mind  now  ;  those 
words  of  yours  are  sufficient.  Come  in,  quick.' 


CHAPTER   XLV 

Petticoat  interest  prevails,  and  I  escape  ;  but  I  put  my  head  into  the 
lion's  den. 

THERE  was  no  time  for  apology,  and  stepping  over  Kathleen, 
I  buried  myself  under  the  clothes  by  her  side.  The  mother 
then  hastened  downstairs,  and  arrived  at  the  door  just  as  they 
had  succeeded  in  forcing  it  open,  when  in  pounced  a  dozen 

219 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

men  armed,  with  their  faces  blackened.  *  Holy  Jesus  !  what 
is  it  that  you  want  ? '  screamed  the  landlady. 

1  The  blood  of  the  tithe-proctor,  and  that's  what  we'll  have,' 
replied  the  OTooles. 

4  Not  in  my  house — not  in  my  house  ! '  cried  she.  '  Take 
him  away,  at  all  events  ;  promise  me  to  take  him  away.' 

*  So  we  will,  honey  darlint ;  we'll  take  him  out  of  your  sight, 
and  out  of  your  hearing,  too,  only  show  us  where  he  may  be.' 

'  He's  sleeping,'  replied  the  mother,  pointing  to  the  door  of 
the  bed-room,  where  I  had  been  lying  down. 

The  party  took  the  light  from  her  hand,  and  went  into  the 
room,  where  they  perceived  the  bed  empty  and  the  window 
open.  *  Devil  a  bit  of  a  proctor  here  anyhow,'  cried  one  of 
them,  '  and  the  window  open.  He's  off — hurrah  !  my  lads,  he 
can't  be  far.3 

'By  the  powers!  it's  just  my  opinion,  Mrs.  M 'Shane,' 
replied  the  elder  O'Toole,  'that  he's  not  quite  so  far  off;  so 
with  your  lave,  or  by  your  lave,  or  without  your  lave,  we'll 
just  have  a  look  over  the  premises.' 

1  Oh,  and  welcome,  Mister  Jerry  O'Toole  :  if  you  think  I'm 
the  woman  to  hide  a  proctor,  look  everywhere  just  as  you 
please.' 

The  party,  headed  by  Jerry  O'Toole,  who  had  taken  the 
light  out  of  Mrs.  M 'Shane's  hand,  now  ascended  the  ladder 
to  the  upper  story,  and  as  I  lay  by  Kathleen,  I  felt  that  she 
trembled  with  fear.  After  examining  every  nook  and  cranny 
they  could  think  of,  they  came  to  Mrs.  M 'Shane's  room — '  Oh, 
go  in — go  in  and  look,  Mr.  O'Toole  ;  it's  a  very  likely  thing 
to  insinuate  that  I  should  have  a  tithe -proctor  in  my  bed. 
Search,  pray,'  and  Mrs.  M 'Shane  led  the  way  into  her  own 
room. 

Every  part  had  been  examined,  except  the  small  sleeping- 
room  of  Kathleen  ;  and  the  party  paused  before  the  door. 
'  We  must  search,'  observed  O'Toole,  doggedly. 

'  Search  my  daughter's  !  very  well,  search  if  you  please  ; 
it's  a  fine  story  you'll  have  to  tell,  how  six  great  men  pulled 
a  poor  girl  out  of  her  bed  to  look  for  a  tithe-proctor.  It  will 
be  a  credit  to  you  anyhow ;  and  you,  Corny  O'Toole,  you'll 
stand  well  in  her  good  graces,  when  you  come  to  talk  about 
the  wedding-day ;  and  your  wife  that  is  to  be,  pulled  out  of 
her  bed  by  a  dozen  men.  What  will  ye  say  to  Kathleen,  when 

220 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

you  affront  her  by  supposing  that  a  maiden  girl  has  a  tithe- 
proctor  in  bed  with  her  ?  D'ye  think  that  ye'll  ever  have  the 
mother's  consent  or  blessing  ? ' 

'  No  one  goes  into  Kathleen's  room,'  cried  Corny  O'Toole, 
roused  by  the  sarcasms  of  Mrs.  M 'Shane. 

'Yes,  Corny,'  replied  Mrs.  M 'Shane,  'it's  not  for  a  woman 
like  me  to  be  suspected,  at  all  events  ;  so  you,  and  you  only, 
shall  go  into  the  room,  if  that  will  content  ye,  Mr.  Jerry 
O'Toole.' 

'Yes!'  replied  the  party,  and  Mrs.  M 'Shane  opened  the 
door, 

Kathleen  rose  up  on  her  elbow,  holding  the  bed-clothes  up 
to  her  throat,  and  looking  at  them,  as  they  entered,  said,  '  O 
Corny  !  Corny  !  this  to  me  ? ' 

Corny  never  thought  of  looking  for  anybody,  his  eyes  were 
riveted  upon  his  sweetheart.  '  Murder,  Kathleen,  is  it  my 
fault  ?  Jerry  will  have  it. 

'Are  you  satisfied,  Corny?'  said  Mrs.  M 'Shane. 

'  Sure  enough  I  was  satisfied  before  I  came  in,  that  Kath- 
leen would  not  have  any  one  in  her  bed-room,'  replied  Corny. 

*  Then  good-night,  Corny,  and  it's  to-morrow  that  I'll  talk 
with  ye,'  replied  Kathleen. 

Mrs.  M 'Shane  then  walked  out  of  the  room,  expecting 
Corny  to  follow  ;  but  he  could  not  restrain  himself,  and  he 
came  to  the  bed-side.  Fearful  that  if  he  put  his  arms  round 
her,  he  would  feel  me,  Kathleen  raised  herself,  and  allowed 
him  to  embrace  her.  Fortunately  the  light  was  not  in  the 
room,  or  I  should  have  been  discovered,  as  in  so  doing  she 
threw  the  clothes  off  my  head  and  shoulders.  She  then 
pushed  back  Corny  from  her,  and  he  left  the  room,  shutting 
the  door  after  him.  The  party  descended  the  ladder,  and  as 
soon  as  Kathleen  perceived  that  they  were  all  down,  she  sprang 
out  of  bed  and  ran  into  her  mother's  room.  Soon  after  I 
heard  them  depart.  Mrs.  M 'Shane  made  fast  the  door,  and 
came  upstairs.  She  first  went  to  her  own  room,  where  poor 
Kathleen  was  crying  bitterly  from  shame  and  excitement.  I 
had  got  up  when  she  came  into  Kathleen's  room  for  her 
clothes,  and,  in  about  five  minutes,  they  returned  together.  I 
was  sitting  on  the  side  of  the  bed  when  they  came  in  :  the 
poor  girl  coloured  up  when  our  eyes  met.  '  Kathleen,'  said  I, 
'  you  have,  in  all  probability,  saved  my  life,  and  I  cannot 

221 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

express  my  thanks.  I  am  only  sorry  that  your  modesty  has 
been  put  to  so  severe  a  trial.' 

'  If  Corny  was  to  find  it  out,'  replied  Kathleen,  sobbing 
again.  *  How  could  I  do  such  a  thing  ! ' 

'Your  mother  bid  you,'  replied  Mrs.  M 'Shane,  'and  that  is 
sufficient.' 

*  But  what  must  you  think  of  me,  sir  ? '  continued  Kathleen. 
'  I  think  that  you  have  behaved  most  nobly.     You  have 

saved  an  innocent  man  at  the  risk  of  your  reputation,  and  the 
loss  of  your  lover.  It  is  not  now  that  I  can  prove  my 
gratitude.' 

'  Yes,  yes,  promise  me  by  all  that's  sacred,  that  you'll  never 
mention  it.  Surely  you  would  not  ruin  one  who  has  tried  to 
serve  you.' 

*  I  promise  you  that,  and  I  hope  to  perform  a  great  deal 
more,'  replied  I.     'But  now,  Mrs.   M'Shane,  what  is  to  be 
done  ?     Remain  here  I  cannot.' 

'  No ;  you  must  leave,  and  that  very  soon.  Wait  about 
ten  minutes  more,  and  then  they  will  give  up  their  search  and 

go  home.  The  road  to  E '  (the  post  I  had  lately  come 

from)  '  is  the  best  you  can  take ;  and  you  must  travel  as  fast 
as  you  can,  for  there  is  no  safety  for  you  here.' 

'  I  am  convinced  that  rascal  M'Dermott  will  not  leave  me 
till  he  has  rid  himself  of  me.'  I  then  took  out  my  purse,  in 
which  I  still  had  nearly  twenty  guineas.  I  took  ten  of  them. 
'  Mrs.  M 'Shane,  I  must  leave  you  in  charge  of  my  portmanteau, 
which  you  may  forward  by  and  by,  when  you  hear  of  my 
safety.  If  I  should  not  be  so  fortunate,  the  money  is  better 
in  your  hands  than  in  the  hands  of  those  who  will  murder  me. 
Kathleen,  God  bless  you  !  you  are  a  good  girl,  and  Corny 
O'Toole  will  be  a  happy  man  if  he  knows  your  value.' 

I  then  wished  Kathleen  good-bye,  and  she  allowed  me  to 
kiss  her  without  any  resistance  ;  but  the  tears  were  coursing 
down  her  cheeks  as  I  left  the  room  with  her  mother.  Mrs. 
M 'Shane  looked  carefully  out  of  the  windows,  holding  the 
light  to  ascertain  if  there  was  anybody  near,  and,  satisfied 
with  her  scrutiny,  she  then  opened  the  door,  and  calling  down 
the  saints  to  protect  me,  shook  hands  with  me,  and  I  quitted 
the  house.  It  was  a  dark  cloudy  night,  and  when  I  first  went 
out,  I  was  obliged  to  grope,  for  I  could  distinguish  nothing. 
I  walked  along  with  a  pistol  loaded  in  each  hand,  and  gained, 

222 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

as  I  thought,  the  high  road  to  E ,  but  I  made  a  sad  mis- 
take ;  and  puzzled  by  the  utter  darkness  and  turnings,  I  took, 
on  the  contrary,  the  road  to  Mount  Castle.  As  soon  as  I  was 
clear  of  the  houses  and  the  enclosure,  there  was  more  light, 
and  I  could  distinguish  the  road.  I  had  proceeded  about  four 
or  five  miles,  when  I  heard  the  sound  of  horses'  hoofs,  and 
shortly  afterwards  two  men  rode  by  me.  I  inquired  if  that 

was  the  way  to  E .      A  pause  ensued,   and  a  whisper. 

*  All's  right ! '  replied  a  deep  voice.  I  continued  my  way,  glad 
to  find  that  I  had  not  mistaken  it,  and  cogitating  as  to  what 
must  be  the  purpose  of  two  men  being  out  at  such  an  hour. 
About  ten  minutes  afterwards  I  thought  I  again  heard  the 
sound  of  horses'  feet,  and  it  then  occurred  to  me  that  they 
must  be  highwaymen,  who  had  returned  to  rob  me.  I  cocked 
my  pistols,  determined  to  sell  my  life  as  dearly  as  I  could,  and 
awaited  their  coming  up  with  anxiety ;  but  they  appeared  to 
keep  at  the  same  distance,  as  the  sound  did  not  increase. 
After  half  an  hour  I  came  to  two  roads,  and  was  undecided 
which  to  take.  I  stopped  and  listened — the  steps  of  the 
horses  were  no  longer  to  be  heard.  I  looked  round  me  to 
ascertain  if  I  could  recognise  any  object  so  as  to  decide  me, 
but  I  could  not.  I  took  the  road  to  the  left,  and  proceeded, 
until  I  arrived  at  a  brook  which  crossed  the  road.  There  was 
no  bridge,  and  it  was  too  dark  to  perceive  the  stepping-stones. 
I  had  just  waded  about  half-way  across,  when  I  received  a 
blow  on  the  head  from  behind,  which  staggered  me.  I  turned 
round,  but  before  I  could  see  my  assailant,  a  second  blow  laid 
me  senseless  in  the  water. 


CHAPTER   XLVI 

Under  ground,  but  not  yet  dead  and  buried — The  prospect  anything  but 
pleasant. 

WHEN  my  recollection  returned  I  found  myself  in  the  dark, 
but  where,  I  knew  not.  My  head  ached,  and  my  brain 
reeled.  I  sat  up  for  a  moment  to  collect  my  senses,  but  the 
effort  was  too  painful — I  fell  back,  and  remained  in  a  state  of 
half- stupor.  Gradually  I  recovered,  and  again  sat  up.  I 

223 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

perceived  that  I  had  been  lying  on  a  bed  of  straw,  composed 
of  two  or  three  trusses  apparently.  I  felt  with  my  extended 
arms  on  each  side  of  me,  but  touched  nothing.  I  opened  my 
eyes,  which  I  had  closed  again,  and  tried  to  pierce  through 
the  obscurity,  but  in  vain — all  was  dark  as  Erebus.  I  then 
rose  on  my  feet,  and  extending  my  hands  before  me,  walked 
five  or  six  steps  on  one  side,  till  I  was  clear  of  the  straw,  and 
came  to  a  wall.  I  followed  the  wall  about  twenty  feet,  and 
then  touched  wood  ;  groping  about,  I  found  it  was  a  door.  I 
then  made  the  circuit  of  the  walls,  and  discovered  that  the 
other  side  was  built  with  bins  for  wine,  which  were  empty,  and 
I  then  found  myself  again  at  the  straw  upon  which  I  had  been 
laid.  It  was  in  a  cellar  no  longer  used — but  where  ?  Again 
I  lay  down  upon  the  straw,  and,  as  it  may  be  imagined,  my 
reflections  were  anything  but  pleasing.  *  Was  I  in  the  power 
of  M'Dermott  or  Melchior?'  I  felt  convinced  that  I  was; 
but  my  head  was  too  painful  for  long  thought,  and  after  half 
an  hour's  reflection,  I  gave  way  to  a  sullen  state  of  half- 
dreaming,  half-stupor,  in  which  the  forms  of  M'Dermott, 
Kathleen,  Melchior,  and  Fleta  passed  in  succession  before 
me.  How  long  I  remained  in  this  second  species  of  trance  I 
cannot  say,  but  I  was  roused  by  the  light  of  a  candle,  which 
flashed  in  my  eyes.  I  started  up,  and  beheld  Melchior  in 
his  gipsy's  dress,  just  as  when  I  had  taken  leave  of  him. 

( It  is  to  you,  then,  that  I  am  indebted  for  this  treatment  ? ' 
replied  I. 

'  No,  not  to  me,'  replied  Melchior.  *  I  do  not  command 
here ;  but  I  knew  you  when  they  brought  you  in  insensible, 
and  being  employed  in  the  castle,  I  have  taken  upon  myself 
the  office  of  your  gaoler,  that  I  might,  if  possible,  serve  you.' 

I  felt,  I  knew  this  to  be  false,  but  a  moment's  reflection 
told  me  that  it  was  better  at  present  to  temporise. 

'  Who  then  does  the  castle  belong  to,  Melchior  ? ' 

'To  Sir  Henry  de  Clare.' 

'  And  what  can  be  his  object  in  treating  me  thus  ? ' 

'  That  I  can  tell  you,  because  I  am  a  party  concerned. 
You  remember  the  little  girl,  Fleta,  who  left  the  gipsy  camp 
with  you — she  is  now  somewhere  under  your  care  ? ' 

'  Well,  I  grant  it ;  but  I  was  answerable  only  to  you 
about  her.' 

'  Very  true,  but  I  was  answerable  to  Sir  Henry ;  and  when 
224 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  could  only  say  that  she  was  well,  he  was  not  satisfied,  for 
family  reasons  now  make  him  very  anxious  that  she  should 
return  to  him  ;  and,  indeed,  it  will  be  for  her  advantage,  as 
she  will  in  all  probability  be  his  heir,  for  he  has  satisfactorily 
proved  that  she  is  a  near  relative.' 

'  Grant  all  that,  Melchior ;  but  why  did  not  Sir  Henry  de 
Clare  write  to  me  on  the  subject,  and  state  his  wishes,  and 
his  right  to  demand  his  relative  ?  and  why  does  he  treat  me 
in  this  way?  Another  question — how  is  it  that  he  has 
recognised  me  to  be  the  party  who  has  charge  of  the  little 
girl  ?  Answer  me  those  questions,  Melchior,  and  then  I  may 
talk  over  the  matter.' 

'  I  will  answer  the  last  question  first.  He  knew  your  name 
from  me,  and  it  so  happened,  that  a  friend  of  his  met  you  in 
the  coach  as  you  were  coming  to  Ireland  :  the  same  person 
also  saw  you  at  the  post-house,  and  gave  information.  Sir 
Henry,  who  is  a  violent  man,  and  here  has  almost  regal  sway, 
determined  to  detain  you  till  you  surrendered  up  the  child. 
You  recollect,  that  you  refused  to  tell  his  agent,  the  person 
whose  address  I  gave  you,  where  she  was  to  be  found,  and, 
vexed  at  this,  he  has  taken  the  law  into  his  own  hands.' 

'  For  which  he  shall  smart,  one  of  these  days,'  replied  I, 
'  if  there  is  law  in  this  country.' 

'  There  is  a  law  in  England,  but  very  little,  and  none  that 
will  harm  Sir  Henry  in  this  part  of  the  country.  No  officer 
would  venture  within  five  miles  of  the  castle,  I  can  assure 
you  ;  for  he  knows  very  well  that  it  would  cost  him  his  life  ; 
and  Sir  Henry  never  quits  it  from  one  year's  end  to  the  other. 
You  are  in  his  power,  and  all  that  he  requires  is  information 
where  the  child  may  be  found,  and  an  order  for  her  being 
delivered  to  him.  You  cannot  object  to  this,  as  he  is  her 
nearest  relative.  If  you  comply,  I  do  not  doubt  but  Sir 
Henry  will  make  you  full  amends  for  this  harsh  treatment, 
and  prove  a  sincere  friend  ever  afterwards.' 

'  It  requires  consideration,'  replied  I  ;  '  at  present,  I  am 
too  much  hurt  to  talk.' 

'  I  was  afraid  so,'  replied  Melchior ;  '  that  was  one  reason 
why  I  obtained  leave  to  speak  to  you.  Wait  a  moment.' 

Melchior  then  put  the  candle  down  on  the  ground,  went  out, 
and  turned  the  key.  I  found,  on  looking  round,  that  I  was  right 
in  my  conjectures.  I  was  in  a  cellar,  which,  apparently,  had 

Q  325 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

long  been  in  disuse.  Melchior  soon  returned,  followed  by  an 
old  crone,  who  carried  a  basket  and  a  can  of  water.  She 
washed  the  blood  off  my  head,  put  some  salve  upon  the 
wounds,  and  bound  them  up.  She  then  went  away,  leaving 
the  basket. 


'  She  put  some  salve  upon  the  wounds  and  bound  them  «/. 


4  There  is  something  to  eat  and  drink  in  that  basket,' 
observed  Melchior  ;  '  but  I  think,  Japhet,  you  will  agree  with 
me,  that  it  will  be  better  to  yield  to  the  wishes  of  Sir  Henry, 
and  not  remain  in  this  horrid  hole.3 

'  Very  true,  Melchior,'  replied  I  ;  '  but  allow  me  to  ask  you 
226 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

a  question  or  two.  How  came  you  here  ?  where  is  Nattee, 
and  how  is  it,  that,  after  leaving  the  camp,  I  find  you  so 
reduced  in  circumstances  as  to  be  serving  such  a  man  as  Sir 
Henry  de  Clare  ? ' 

'  A  few  words  will  explain  that,3  replied  he.  '  In  my  early 
days  I  was  wild,  and  I  am,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  in  the  power 
of  this  man  ;  nay,  I  will  tell  you  honestly,  my  life  is  in  his 
power :  he  ordered  me  to  come,  and  I  dare  not  disobey  him 
— and  he  retains  me  here.' 

1  And  Nattee  ? ' 

'  Is  quite  well,  and  with  me,  but  not  very  happy  in  her 
present  situation  ;  but  he  is  a  dangerous,  violent,  implacable 
man,  and  I  dare  not  disobey  him.  I  advise  you,  as  a  friend, 
to  consent  to  his  wishes.' 

'That  requires  some  deliberation,'  replied  I,  'and  I  am 
not  one  of  those  who  are  to  be  driven.  My  feelings  towards 
Sir  Henry,  after  this  treatment,  are  not  the  most  amicable  ; 
besides,  how  am  I  to  know  that  Fleta  is  his  relative  ? ' 

'  Well,  I  can  say  no  more,  Japhet.  I  wish  you  well  out 
of  his  hands.' 

'You  have  the  power  to  help  me,  if  that  is  the  case,' 
said  I. 

'  I  dare  not.' 

'Then  you  are  not  the  Melchior  that  you  used  to  be,' 
replied  I. 

'  We  must  submit  to  fate.  I  must  not  stay  longer  ;  you 
will  find  all  that  you  want  in  the  basket,  and  more  candles, 
if  you  do  not  like  being  in  the  dark.  I  do  not  think  I  shall 
be  permitted  to  come  again,  till  to-morrow.' 

Melchior  then  went  out,  locked  the  door  after  him,  and 
I  was  left  to  my  meditations. 


CHAPTER   XLVII 

A  friend  in  need  is  a  friend  indeed — The  tables  are  turned,  and  so  is 
the  key — The  issue  is  deep  tragedy. 

WAS  it  possible  that  which  Melchior  said  was  true  ?     A  little 
reflection   told   me   that   it   was    all    false,   and    that    he   was 

227 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

himself  Sir  Henry  de  Clare.  I  was  in  his  power,  and  what 
might  be  the  result  ?  He  might  detain  me,  but  he  dare  not 
murder  me.  Dare  not !  My  heart  sank  when  I  considered 
where  I  was,  and  how  easy  would  it  be  for  him  to  despatch 
me,  if  so  inclined,  without  any  one  ever  being  aware  of  my 
fate.  I  lighted  a  whole  candle,  that  I  might  not  find  myself 
in  the  dark  when  I  rose,  and,  exhausted  in  body  and  mind, 
was  soon  fast  asleep.  I  must  have  slept  many  hours,  for 
when  I  awoke  I  was  in  darkness — the  candle  had  burnt  out. 
I  groped  for  the  basket,  and  examined  the  contents  with  my 
hands,  and  found  a  tinder-box.  I  struck  a  light,  and  then 
feeling  hungry  and  weak,  refreshed  myself  with  the  eatables 
it  contained,  which  were  excellent,  as  well  as  the  wine.  I 
had  replaced  the  remainder,  when  the  key  again  turned  in 
the  door,  and  Melchior  made  his  appearance. 

'  How  do  you  feel,  Japhet,  to-day  ? ' 

'  To-day  ! '  replied  I  ;  « day  and  night  are  the  same  to  me.' 

'  That  is  your  own  fault,'  replied  he.  '  Have  you  con- 
sidered what  I  proposed  to  you  yesterday  ? ' 

1  Yes,'  replied  I  ;  '  and  I  will  agree  to  this.  Let  Sir 
Henry  give  me  my  liberty,  come  over  to  England,  prove 
his  relationship  to  Fleta,  and  I  will  give  her  up.  What  can 
he  ask  for  more  ? ' 

'  He  will  hardly  consent  to  that,'  replied  Melchior  ;  *  for, 
once  in  England,  you  will  take  a  warrant  out  against  him.' 

1  No  ;  on  my  honour  I  will  not,  Melchior.' 

'  He  will  not  trust  to  that.' 

'  Then  he  must  judge  of  others  by  himself,'  replied  I. 

'  Have  you  no  other  terms  to  propose  ? '  replied  Melchior. 

<  None.' 

'  Then  I  will  carry  your  message,  and  give  you  his  answer 
to-morrow.' 

Melchior  then  brought  in  another  basket,  and  took  away 
the  former,  and  did  not  make  his  appearance  till  the  next 
day.  I  now  had  recovered  my  strength,  and  determined  to 
take  some  decided  measures,  but  how  to  act  I  knew  not.  I 
reflected  all  night,  and  the  next  morning  (that  is,  according 
to  my  supposition)  I  attacked  the  basket.  Whether  it  was 
that  ennui  or  weakness  occasioned  it,  I  cannot  tell,  but  either 
way,  I  drank  too  much  wine,  and  was  ready  for  any  daring 
deed,  when  Melchior  again  opened  the  door. 

228 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  Sir  Henry  will  not  accept  of  your  terms.      I  thought  not,' 
said  Melchior  :   '  I  am  sorry — very  sorry.' 

*  Melchior,5  replied    I,  starting  up,   '  let   us  have  no  more 
of  this  duplicity.      I  am  not  quite  so  ignorant  as  you  suppose. 
I  know  who  Fleta  is,  and  who  you  are.3 

4  Indeed,'  replied  Melchior  ;  '  perhaps  you  will  explain  ! ' 

1 1  will.  You,  Melchior,  are  Sir  Henry  de  Clare ;  you 
succeeded  to  your  estates  by  the  death  of  your  elder  brother, 
from  a  fall  when  hunting.' 

Melchior  appeared  astonished. 

'Indeed!'  replied  he;  'pray  go  on.  You  have  made  a 
gentleman  of  me.' 

*  No  ;  rather  a  scoundrel.' 

'  As  you  please  ;  now  will  you  make  a  lady  of  Fleta  ? ' 

'Yes,  I  will.  She  is  your  niece.'  Melchior  started  back. 
'Your  agent,  M'Dermott,  who  was  sent  over  to  find  out 
Fleta's  abode,  met  me  in  the  coach,  and  he  has  tracked  me 
here,  and  risked  my  life,  by  telling  the  people  that  I  was 
a  tithe-proctor.' 

'  Your  information  is  very  important,'  replied  Melchior. 
'  You  will  find  some  difficulty  to  prove  all  you  say.' 

'  Not  the  least,'  replied  I,  flushed  with  anger  and  with 
wine,  '  I  have  proof  positive.  I  have  seen  her  mother,  and 
I  can  identify  the  child  by  the  necklace  which  was  on  her 
neck  when  you  stole  her.' 

'  Necklace  ! '  cried  Melchior. 

1  Yes,  the  necklace  put  into  my  hands  by  your  own  wife 
when  we  parted.' 

'  Damn  her  ! '  replied  Melchior. 

'  Do  not  damn  her ;  damn  yourself  for  your  villainy,  and 
its  being  brought  to  light.  Have  I  said  enough,  or  shall  I 
tell  you  more  ? ' 

'  Pray  tell  me  more.' 

'  No,  I  will  not,  for  I  must  commit  others,  and  that  will 
not  do,'  replied  I  ;  for  I  felt  I  had  already  said  too  much. 

'You  have  committed  yourself,  at  all  events,'  replied 

Melchior ;  '  and  now  I  tell  you,  that  until never  mind,' 

and  Melchior  hastened  away. 

The  door  was  again  locked,  and  I  was  once  more  alone. 

I  had  time  to  reflect  upon  my  imprudence.  The  counte- 
nance of  Melchior,  when  he  left  me,  was  that  of  a  demon. 

229 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Something  told  me  to  prepare  for  death ;  and  I  was  not 
wrong.  The  next  day  Melchior  came  not,  nor  the  next  :  my 
provisions  were  all  gone.  I  had  nothing  but  a  little  wine 
and  water  left.  The  idea  struck  me,  that  I  was  to  die  of 
starvation.  Was  there  no  means  of  escape  ?  None  ;  I  had 
no  weapon,  no  tool,  not  even  a  knife.  I  had  expended  all 
my  candles.  At  last,  it  occurred  to  me,  that,  although  I  was 
in  a  cellar,  my  voice  might  be  heard,  and  I  resolved,  as  a 
last  effort,  to  attempt  it.  I  went  to  the  door  of  the  cellar, 
and  shouted  at  the  top  of  my  lungs,  '  Murder — murder  ! J  I 
shouted  again  and  again  as  loud  as  I  could,  until  I  was 
exhausted.  As  it  afterwards  appeared,  this  plan  did  prevent 
my  being  starved  to  death,  for  such  was  Melchior's  villainous 
intention.  About  an  hour  afterwards,  I  repeated  my  cries  of 
'  Murder — murder  ! '  and  they  were  heard  by  the  household, 
who  stated  to  Melchior,  that  there  was  some  one  shouting 
murder  in  the  vaults  below.  That  night,  and  all  the  next 
day,  I  repeated  my  cries  occasionally.  I  was  now  quite 
exhausted  ;  I  had  been  nearly  two  days  without  food,  and 
my  wine  and  water  had  all  been  drunk.  I  sat  down  with  a 
parched  mouth  and  heated  brain,  waiting  till  I  could  sufficiently 
recover  my  voice  to  repeat  my  cries,  when  I  heard  footsteps 
approaching.  The  key  was  again  turned  in  the  door,  and 
a  light  appeared,  carried  by  one  of  two  men  armed  with  large 
sledge-hammers. 

'  It  is  then  all  over  with  me,'  cried  I  ;  '  and  I  never  shall 
find  out  who  is  my  father.  Come  on,  murderers,  and  do 
your  work.  Do  it  quickly.3 

The  two  men  advanced  without  speaking  a  word ;  the 
foremost,  who  carried  the  lantern,  laid  it  down  at  his  feet, 
and  raised  his  hammer  with  both  hands,  when  the  other 
behind  him  raised  his  weapon — and  the  foremost  fell  dead 
at  his  feet. 


CHAPTER   XLVIII 

Is  full  of  perilous  adventures,  and  in  which,  the  reader  may  be  assured, 
there  is  much  more  than  meets  the  eye. 

'  SILENCE,'  said  a  voice  that   I  well  knew,  although  his  face 
was     completely    disguised.       It    was    Timothy !      '  Silence, 

230 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Japhet,'  again  whispered  Timothy  ;  *  there  is  yet  much  danger, 
but  I  will  save  you  or  die.  Take  the  hammer.  Melchior  is 
waiting  outside.'  Timothy  put  the  lantern  in  the  bin,  so  as  to 
render  it  more  dark,  and  led  me  towards  the  door,  whispering, 
'  When  he  comes  in,  we  will  secure  him.' 

Melchior  soon  made  his  appearance  ;  and  as  he  entered 
the  cellar,  '  Is  it  all  right  ?'  said  he,  going  up  to  Timothy  and 
passing  me. 

With  one  blow  I  felled  him  to  the  ground,  and  he  lay  in- 
sensible. *  That  will  do,'  replied  Timothy  ;  '  now  we  must  be 
off.' 

*  Not  till  he  takes  my  place,'  replied  I,  as  I   shut  the   door 
and  locked  it.      'Now  he  may  learn  what  it  is  to  starve  to 
death.' 

I  then  followed  Timothy,  by  a  passage  which  led  outside 
of  the  castle,  through  which  he  and  his  companion  had  been 
admitted.  '  Our  horses  are  close  by,'  said  Timothy  ;  <  for  we 
stipulated  upon  leaving  the  country  after  it  was  done.' 

It  was  just  dark  when  we  were  safe  out  of  the  castle.  We 
mounted  our  horses,  and  set  off  with  all  speed.  We  followed 
the  high  road  to  the  post  town  to  which  I  had  been  conveyed, 
and  I  determined  to  pull  up  at  Mrs.  M 'Shane's,  for  I  was  so 
exhausted  that  I  could  go  no  further.  This  was  a  measure 
which  required  precaution  ;  and  as  there  was  moonlight,  I 
turned  off  the  road  before  I  entered  the  town,  or  village,  as  it 
ought  to  have  been  called,  so  that  we  dismounted  at  the  back 
of  Mrs.  M 'Shane's  house.  I  went  to  the  window  of  the  bed- 
room where  I  had  lain  down,  and  tapped  gently,  again  and 
again,  and  no  answer.  At  last,  Kathleen  made  her  appearance. 

'  Can  I  come  in,  Kathleen  ?'  said  I  ;  '  I  am  almost  dead 
with  fatigue  and  exhaustion,' 

*  Yes,'  replied  she,  '  I  will  open  the  back-door  ;  there  is  no 
one  here  to-night — it  is  too  early  for  them.' 

I  entered,  followed  by  Timothy,  and,  as  I  stepped  over  the 
threshold,  I  fainted.  As  soon  as  I  recovered,  Mrs.  M 'Shane 
led  me  upstairs  into  her  room  for  security,  and  I  was  soon 
able  to  take  the  refreshment  I  so  much  required.  I  stated 
what  had  passed  to  Mrs.  M 'Shane  and  Kathleen,  who  were 
much  shocked  at  the  account. 

*  You  had  better  wait  till  it  is  late,  before  you  go  on,'  said 
Mrs.  M 'Shane,  '  it  will  be  more  safe  ;  it  is  now  nine  o'clock, 

231 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

and  the  people  will  all  be  moving  till  eleven.  I  will  give  your 
horses  some  corn,  and  when  you  are  five  miles  from  here,  you 
may  consider  yourselves  as  safe.  Holy  saints  !  what  an  escape !' 
The  advice  was  too  good  not  to  be  followed  ;  and  I  was  so 
exhausted,  that  I  was  glad  that  prudence  was  on  the  side  of 
repose.  I  lay  down  on  Mrs.  M 'Shane's  bed,  while  Timothy 
watched  over  me.  I  had  a  short  slumber,  and  then  was 
awakened  by  the  good  landlady,  who  told  me  that  it  was  time 
for  us  to  quit.  Kathleen  then  came  up  to  me,  and  said,  '  I 
would  ask  a  favour  of  you,  sir,  and  I  hope  you  will  not  refuse 
it.' 

*  Kathleen,  you  may  ask  anything  of  me,  and  depend  upon 
it,  I  will  not  refuse  it,  if  I  can  grant  it.' 

'  Then,  sir,'  replied  the  good  girl,  '  you  know  how  I  over- 
came my  feelings  to  serve  you,  will  you  overcome  yours  for 
me  ?  I  cannot  bear  the  idea  that  any  one,  bad  as  he  may  be, 
of  the  family  who  have  reared  me,  should  perish  in  so  miser- 
able a  manner  ;  and  I  cannot  bear  that  any  man,  bad  as  he 
is,  even  if  I  did  not  feel  obliged  to  him,  should  die  so  full  of 
guilt,  and  without  absolution.  Will  you  let  me  have  the  key, 
that  Sir  Henry  de  Clare  may  be  released  after  you  are  safe 
and  away  ?  I  know  he  does  not  deserve  any  kindness  from 
you  ;  but  it  is  a  horrid  death,  and  a  horrid  thing  to  die  so 
loaded  with  crime.' 

'  Kathleen,'  replied  I,  'I  will  keep  my  word  with  you. 
Here  is  the  key  ;  take  it  up  to-morrow  morning,  and  give  it  to 
Lady  de  Clare  ;  tell  her  Japhet  Newland  sent  it.3 

(  I  will,  and  God  bless  you,  sir.' 

'  Good-bye,  sir,'  said  Mrs.  M 'Shane  :  '  you  have  no  time  to 
lose.' 

'  God  bless  you,  sir,'  said  Kathleen,  who  now  put  her 
arms  round  me,  and  kissed  me.  We  mounted  our  horses  and 
set  off. 

We  pressed  our  horses,  or  rather  ponies,  for  they  were 
very  small,  till  we  had  gained  about  six  miles,  when  we  con- 
sidered that  we  were,  comparatively  speaking,  safe,  and  then 
drew  up,  to  allow  them  to  recover  their  wind.  I  was  very 
much  exhausted  myself,  and  hardly  spoke  one  word  until 
we  arrived  at  the  next  post  town,  when  we  found  everybody 
in  'bed.  We  contrived,  however,  to  knock  them  up  ;  and 
Timothy  having  seen  that  our  horses  were  put  into  the  stable, 

232 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

we  lay  down  till  the  next  morning  upon  a  bed  which 
happened  to  be  unoccupied.  Sorry  as  were  the  accommoda- 
tions, I  never  slept  so  soundly,  and  woke  quite  refreshed. 
The  next  morning  I  stated  my  intention  of  posting  to  Dublin, 
and  asked  Tim  what  we  should  do  with  the  horses. 

'  They  belong  to  the  castle,3  replied  he. 

«  Then,  in  God's  name,  let  the  castle  have  them,  for  I  wish 
for  nothing  from  that  horrid  place.' 

We  stated  to  the  landlord  that  the  horses  were  to  be  sent 
back,  and  that  the  man  who  took  them  would  be  paid  for  his 
trouble  ;  and  then  it  occurred  to  me,  that  it  would  be  a  good 
opportunity  of  writing  to  Melchior,  alias  Sir  Henry.  I  do 
not  know  why,  but  certainly  my  animosity  against  him  had 
subsided,  and  I  did  not  think  of  taking  legal  measures  against 
him.  I  thought  it,  however,  right  to  frighten  him.  I  wrote, 
therefore,  as  follows  : — 

«  SIR  HENRY — I  send  you  back  your  horses  with  thanks, 
as  they  have  enabled  Timothy  and  me  to  escape  from  your 
clutches.  Your  reputation  and  your  life  now  are  in  my 
power,  and  I  will  have  ample  revenge.  The  fact  of  your  in- 
tending murder  will  be  fully  proved  by  my  friend  Timothy, 
who  was  employed  by  you  in  disguise,  and  accompanied  your 
gipsy.  You  cannot  escape  the  sentence  of  the  law.  Prepare 
yourself,  then,  for  the  worst,  as  it  is  not  my  intention  that  you 
shall  escape  the  disgraceful  punishment  due  to  your  crimes. 
« Yours,  JAPHET  NEWLAND.' 

Having  sealed  this,  and  given  it  to  the  lad  who  was  to 
return  with  the  horses,  we  finished  our  breakfast,  and  took  a 
post-chaise  on  for  Dublin,  where  we  arrived  late  in  the  even- 
ing. During  our  journey  I  requested  Timothy  to  narrate 
what  had  passed,  and  by  what  fortunate  chance  he  had  been 
able  to  come  so  opportunely  to  my  rescue. 

'  If  you  recollect,  Japhet,'  replied  Timothy,  *  you  had 
received  one  or  two  letters  from  me  relative  to  the  movements 
of  the  gipsy,  and  stating  his  intention  to  carry  off  the  little 
girl  from  the  boarding-school.  My  last  letter,  in  which  I  had 
informed  you  that  he  had  succeeded  in  gaining  an  entrance 
into  the  ladies'  school  at  Brentford,  could  not  have  reached 
you,  as  I  found  by  your  note  that  you  had  set  off  the  same 

233 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

evening.      The  gipsy,  whom  I  only  knew  by  the  name  of 
inquired  of  me  the  name  by  which  the  little  girl  was  known, 
and  my  answer  was,  Smith  ;  as  I  took  it  for  granted  that,  in  a 


'  The  maid-servant  to  -whom  he  paid  his  addresses? 

large  seminary,  there  must  be  one,  if  not  more,  of  that  name. 
Acting  upon  this,  he  made  inquiries  of  the  maid-servant  to 
whom  he  paid  his  addresses,  and  made  very  handsome  pre- 
234 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

sents,  if  there  was  a  Miss  Smith  in  the  school  ;  she  replied, 
that  there  were  two,  one  a  young  lady  of  sixteen,  and  the 
other  about  twelve  years  old.  Of  course  the  one  selected  was 
the  younger.  Will  had  seen  me  in  my  livery,  and  his  plan 
was  to  obtain  a  similar  one,  hire  a  chariot,  and  go  down  to 
Brentford,  with  a  request  that  Miss  Smith  might  be  sent  up 
with  him  immediately,  as  you  were  so  ill  that  you  were  not 
expected  to  live  ;  but  previous  to  his  taking  this  step,  he 
wrote  to  Melchior,  requesting  his  orders  as  to  how  he  was  to 
proceed  when  he  had  obtained  the  child.  The  answer  from 
Melchior  arrived.  By  this  time,  he  had  discovered  that  you 
were  in  Ireland,  and  intended  to  visit  him  ;  perhaps  he  had 
you  in  confinement,  for  I  do  not  know  how  long  you  were 
there,  but  the  answer  desired  Will  to  come  over  immediately, 
as  there  would  be  in  all  probability  work  for  him,  that  would 
be  well  paid  for.  He  had  now  become  so  intimate  with  me, 
that  he  disguised  nothing  :  he  showed  me  the  letter,  and  I 
asked  him  what  it  meant  ;  he  replied  that  there  was  some- 
body to  put  out  of  the  way,  that  was  clear.  It  immediately 
struck  me,  that  you  must  be  the  person,  if  such  was  the  case, 
and  I  volunteered  to  go  with  him,  to  which,  after  some  diffi- 
culty, he  consented.  We  travelled  outside  the  mail,  and  in 
four  days  we  arrived  at  the  castle.  Will  went  up  to  Melchior, 
who  told  him  what  it  was  that  he  required.  Will  consented, 
and  then  stated  he  had  another  hand  with  him,  which  might 
be  necessary,  vouching  for  my  doing  anything  that  was 
required.  Melchior  sent  for  me,  and  I  certainly  was  afraid 
that  he  would  discover  me,  but  my  disguise  was  too  good.  I 
had  prepared  for  it  still  further,  by  wearing  a  wig  of  light 
hair  ;  he  asked  me  some  questions,  and  I  replied  in  a  surly, 
dogged  tone,  which  satisfied  him.  The  reward  was  two 
hundred  pounds,  to  be  shared  between  us  ;  and,  as  it  was 
considered  advisable  that  we  should  not  be  seen  after  the 
affair  was  over,  by  the  people  about  the  place,  we  had  the 
horses  provided  for  us.  The  rest  you  well  know.  I  was 
willing  to  make  sure  that  it  was  you  before  I  struck  the 
scoundrel,  and  the  first  glimpse  from  the  lantern,  and  your 
voice,  convinced  me.  Thank  God,  Japhet,  but  I  have  been  of 
some  use  to  you,  at  all  events.' 

'  My  dear  Tim,   you  have,  indeed,   and  you  know  me  too 
well  to   think    I   shall  ever    forget  it ;  but   now   I   must   first 

235 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

ascertain  where  the  will  of  the  late  Sir  William  is  to  be  found. 
We  can  read  it  for  a  shilling,  and  then  I  may  discover  what 
are  the  grounds  of  Melchior's  conduct,  for,  to  me,  it  is  still 
inexplicable.' 

*  Are  wills  made  in  Ireland  registered  here,  or  at  Doctors' 
Commons  in  London  ?' 

'  In  Dublin,  I  should  imagine.' 

But  on  my  arrival  in  Dublin  I  felt  so  ill,  that  I  was  obliged 
to  retire  to  bed,  and  before  morning  I  was  in  a  violent  fever. 
Medical  assistance  was  sent  for,  and  I  was  nursed  by  Timothy 
with  the  greatest  care,  but  it  was  ten  days  before  I  could  quit  my 
bed.  For  the  first  time,  I  was  sitting  in  an  easy-chair  by  the 
fire,  when  Timothy  came  in  with  the  little  portmanteau  I  had 
left  in  the  care  of  Mrs.  M 'Shane.  'Open  it,  Timothy,'  said  I, 
'  and  see  if  there  be  anything  in  the  way  of  a  note  from  them.' 
Timothy  opened  the  portmanteau,  and  produced  one,  which  was 
lying  on  the  top.  It  was  from  Kathleen,  and  as  follows  : — 

'  DEAR  SIR — They  say  there  is  terrible  work  at  the  castle, 
and  that  Sir  Henry  has  blown  out  his  brains,  or  cut  his  throat, 
I  don't  know  which.  Mr.  M'Dermott  passed  in  a  great  hurry, 
but  said  nothing  to  anybody  here.  I  will  send  you  word  of 
what  has  taken  place  as  soon  as  I  can.  The  morning  after 
you  went  away,  I  walked  up  to  the  castle  and  gave  the  key  to 
the  lady,  who  appeared  in  a  great  fright  at  Sir  Henry  not 
having  been  seen  for  so  long  a  while.  They  wished  to  detain  me 
after  they  had  found  him  in  the  cellar  with  the  dead  man,  but 
after  two  hours  I  was  desired  to  go  away,  and  hold  my  tongue. 
It  was  after  the  horses  went  back  that  Sir  Henry  is  said  to  have 
destroyed  himself.  I  went  up  to  the  castle,  but  M'Dermott 
had  given  orders  for  no  one  to  be  let  in  on  any  account. 

'  Yours, 

'  KATHLEEN  M 'SHANE.' 

'This  is  news,  indeed,'  said  I,  handing  the  letter  to 
Timothy.  '  It  must  have  been  my  threatening  letter  which  has 
driven  him  to  this  mad  act' 

4  Very  likely,'  replied  Timothy ;  '  but  it  was  the  best  thing 
the  scoundrel  could  do,  after  all.' 

'  The  letter  was  not,  however,  written  with  that  intention. 
I  wished  to  frighten  him,  and  have  justice  done  to  little  Fleta — 
poor  child  !  how  glad  I  shall  be  to  see  her ! ' 

236 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER   XLIX 

Another  investigation  relative  to  a  child,  which,  in  the  same  way  as  the 
former  one,  ends  by  the  lady  going  off  in  a  fit. 

THE  next  day  the  newspapers  contained  a  paragraph,  in  which 
Sir  Henry  de  Clare  was  stated  to  have  committed  suicide. 
No  reason  could  be  assigned  for  this  rash  act,  was  the  winding 
up  of  the  intelligence.  I  also  received  another  letter  from 
Kathleen  M 'Shane,  confirming  the  previous  accounts  :  her 
mother  had  been  sent  for  to  assist  in  laying  out  the  body. 
There  was  now  no  further  doubt,  and  as  soon  as  I  could 
venture  out,  I  hastened  to  the  proper  office,  where  I  read  the 
will  of  the  late  Sir  William.  It  was  very  short,  merely 
disposing  of  his  personal  property  to  his  wife,  and  a  few 
legacies ;  for,  as  I  discovered,  only  a  small  portion  of  the 
estates  were  entailed  with  the  title,  and  the  remainder  was  not 
only  to  the  heirs  male,  but  the  eldest  female,  should  there  be 
no  male  heir,  with  the  proviso,  that  should  she  marry,  the 
husband  was  to  take  upon  himself  the  name  of  De  Clare. 
Here,  then,  was  the  mystery  explained,  and  why  Melchior  had 
stolen  away  his  brother's  child.  Satisfied  with  my  discovery, 
I  determined  to  leave  for  England  immediately,  find  out  the 
Dowager-Lady  de  Clare,  and  put  the  whole  case  into  the  hands 
of  Mr.  Masterton.  Fortunately,  Timothy  had  money  with 
him  sufficient  to  pay  all  expenses,  and  take  us  to  London,  or  I 
should  have  been  obliged  to  wait  for  remittances,  as  mine  was 
all  expended  before  I  arrived  at  Dublin.  We  arrived  safe,  and 
I  immediately  proceeded  to  my  house,  where  I  found  Harcourt, 
who  had  been  in  great  anxiety  about  me.  The  next  morning 
I  went  to  my  old  legal  friend,  to  whom  I  communicated  all 
that  had  happened. 

'Well  done,  Newland,'  replied  he,  after  I  had  finished. 
'  I'll  bet  ten  to  one  that  you  find  out  your  father.  Your  life 
already  would  not  make  a  bad  novel.  If  you  continue  your 
hair-breadth  adventures  in  this  way,  it  will  be  quite  interesting.' 

'  Although  satisfied  in  my  own  mind  that  I  had  discovered 
Fleta's  parentage,  and  anxious  to  impart  the  joyful  intelligence, 
I  resolved  not  to  see  her  until  everything  should  be  satisfac- 

237 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

torily  arranged.  The  residence  of  the  Dowager-Lady  de  Clare 
was  soon  discovered  by  Mr.  Masterton  :  it  was  at  Richmond, 
and  thither  he  and  I  proceeded.  We  were  ushered  into  the 
drawing-room,  and,  to  my  delight,  upon  her  entrance,  I 
perceived  that  it  was  the  same  beautiful  person  in  whose  ears  I 
had  seen  the  coral  and  gold  earrings  matching  the  necklace 
belonging  to  Fleta.  I  considered  it  better  to  allow  Mr. 
Masterton  to  break  the  subject. 

'  You  are,  madam,  the  widow  of  the  late  Sir  William  de 
Clare.'  The  lady  bowed.  '  You  will  excuse  me,  madam,  but 
I  have  most  important  reasons  for  asking  you  a  few  questions, 
which  otherwise  may  appear  to  be  intrusive.  Are  you  aware 
of  the  death  of  his  brother,  Sir  Henry  de  Clare  ?' 

'  Indeed  I  was  not,'  replied  she.  '  I  seldom  look  at  a  paper, 
and  I  have  long  ceased  to  correspond  with  any  one  in  Ireland. 
May  I  ask  you  what  occasioned  his  death  ? ' 

'  He  fell  by  his  own  hands,  madam.' 

Lady  de  Clare  covered  up  her  face.  '  God  forgive  him  ! ' 
said  she,  in  a  low  voice. 

*  Lady  de  Clare,  upon  what  terms  were  your  husband  and 
the  late  Sir  Henry  ?      It  is  important  to  know.' 

'Not  on  the  very  best,  sir.  Indeed,  latterly,  for  years, 
they  never  met  or  spoke  :  we  did  not  know  what  had  become 
of  him.' 

'  Were  there  any  grounds  for  ill-will  ? ' 

'  Many,  sir,  on  the  part  of  the  elder  brother ;  but  none  on 
that  of  Sir  Henry,  who  was  treated  with  every  kindness,  until 
he —  -'  Lady  de  Clare  stopped — *  until  he  behaved  very  ill 
to  him.' 

As  we  afterwards  discovered,  Henry  de  Clare  had  squandered 
away  the  small  portion  left  him  by  his  father,  and  had  ever 
after  that  been  liberally  supplied  by  his  eldest  brother,  until  he 
had  attempted  to  seduce  Lady  de  Clare,  upon  which  he  was 
dismissed  for  ever. 

'And  now,  madam,  I  must  revert  to  a  painful  subject. 
You  had  a  daughter  by  your  marriage  ? ' 

'  Yes,'  replied  the  lady,  with  a  deep  sigh. 

*  How  did  you  lose  her  ?     Pray  do  not  think  I  am  creating 
this  distress  on  your  part  without  strong  reasons.' 

'  She  was  playing  in  the  garden,  and  the  nurse,  who 
thought  it  rather  cold,  ran  in  for  a  minute  to  get  a  handkerchief 

238 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

to  tie  round  her  neck.  When  the  nurse  returned,  the  child 
had  disappeared.'  Lady  de  Clare  put  her  handkerchief  up  to 
her  eyes. 

'  Where  did  you  find  her  afterwards  ? ' 

*  It  was  not  until  three  weeks  afterwards  that  her  body  was 
found  in  a  pond  about  a  quarter  of  a  mile  off.' 

'  Did  the  nurse  not  seek  her  when  she  discovered  that  she 
was  not  in  the  garden  ? ' 

'  She  did,  and  immediately  ran  in  that  direction.  It  is 
quite  strange  that  the  child  could  have  got  so  far  without  the 
nurse  perceiving  her.' 

'  How  long  is  it  ago  ?' 

'  It  is  now  nine  years.' 

« And  the  age  of  the  child  at  the  time  ? J 

1  About  six  years  old.' 

'  I  think,  Newland,  you  may  now  speak  to  Lady  de  Clare.' 

'  Lady  de  Clare,  have  you  not  a  pair  of  earrings  of  coral 
and  gold  of  very  remarkable  workmanship  ? ' 

'  I  have,  sir,'  replied  she,  with  surprise. 

'  Had  you  not  a  necklace  of  the  same  ?  and  if  so,  will  you 
do  me  the  favour  to  examine  this  ? '  I  presented  the  neck- 
lace. 

'  Merciful  heaven  ! '  cried  Lady  de  Clare,  *  it  is  the  very 
necklace  ! — it  was  on  my  poor  Cecilia  when  she  was  drowned, 
and  it  was  not  found  with  the  body.  How  came  it  into  your 
possession,  sir  ?  At  one  time,'  continued  Lady  de  Clare, 
weeping,  '  I  thought  that  it  was  possible  that  the  temptation 
of  the  necklace,  which  has  a  great  deal  of  gold  in  it,  must,  as 
it  was  not  found  on  her  corpse,  have  been  an  inducement  for 
the  gipsies,  who  were  in  the  neighbourhood,  to  drown  her  ; 
but  Sir  William  would  not  believe  it,  rather  supposing  that  in 
her  struggles  in  the  water  she  must  have  broken  it,  and  that 
it  had  thus  been  detached  from  her  neck.  Is  it  to  return  this 
unfortunate  necklace  that  you  have  come  here  ? ' 

'  No,  madam,  not  altogether.  Had  you  two  white  ponies 
at  the  time  ? ' 

'Yes,  sir.' 

'  Was  there  a  mulberry  tree  in  the  garden  ? ' 

*  Yes,  sir,'  replied  the  astonished  lady. 

'  Will  you  do  me  the  favour  to  describe  the  appearance  of 
your  child  as  she  was  at  the  time  that  you  lost  her  ? ' 

239 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  She  was — but  all  mothers  are  partial,  and  perhaps  I  may 
also  be  so — a  very  fair,  lovely  little  girl.3 

'  With  light  hair,  I  presume  ? ' 

'  Yes,  sir.  But  why  these  questions  ?  Surely  you  cannot 
ask  them  for  nothing,'  continued  she  hurriedly.  '  Tell  me, 
sir,  why  all  these  questions  ? ' 

Mr.  Masterton  replied,  'Because,  madam,  we  have  some 
hopes  that  you  have  been  deceived,  and  that  it  is  possible  that 
your  daughter  was  not  drowned.' 

Lady  de  Clare,  breathless  and  her  mouth  open,  fixed  her 
eyes  upon  Mr.  Masterton,  and  exclaimed,  '  Not  drowned ! 
O  my  God  !  my  head  ! '  and  then  she  fell  back  insensible. 

*  I  have  been  too  precipitate,'  said  Mr.  Masterton,  going 
to  her  assistance;  'but  joy  does  not  kill.  Ring  for  some 
water,  Japhet.' 


CHAPTER  L 

In  which,  if  the  reader  does  not  sympathise  with  the  parties,  he  had 
better  shut  the  book. 

IN  a  few  minutes  Lady  de  Clare  was  sufficiently  recovered  to 
hear  the  outline  of  our  history ;  and  as  soon  as  it  was  over, 
she  insisted  upon  immediately  going  with  us  to  the  school 
where  Fleta  was  domiciled,  as  she  could  ascertain,  by  several 
marks  known  but  to  a  nurse  or  mother,  if  more  evidence  was 
required,  whether  Fleta  was  her  child  or  not.  To  allow  her 
to  remain  in  such  a  state  of  anxiety  was  impossible,  Mr. 

Masterton  agreed,  and  we  posted  to  ,  where  we  arrived 

in  the  evening.  *  Now,  gentlemen,  leave  me  but  one  minute 
with  the  child,  and  when  I  ring  the  bell,  you  may  enter.5 
Lady  de  Clare  was  in  so  nervous  and  agitated  a  state,  that 
she  could  not  walk  into  the  parlour  without  assistance.  We 
led  her  to  a  chair,  and  in  a  minute  Fleta  was  called  down. 
Perceiving  me  in  the  passage,  she  ran  to  me.  '  Stop,  my 
dear  Fleta,  there  is  a  lady  in  the  parlour,  who  wishes  to  see 
you.' 

'  A  lady,  Japhet  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  my  dear,  go  in.' 

Fleta  obeyed,  and  in  a  minute  we  heard  a  scream,  and 
240 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Fleta  hastily  opened  the  door,  '  Quick  !  quick  !  the  lady  has 
fallen  down.' 

We  ran  in  and  found  Lady  de  Clare  on  the  floor,  and  it 
was  some  time  before  she  returned  to  her  senses.  As  soon  as 
she  did,  she  fell  down  on  her  knees,  holding  up  her  hands  as 


'My  child!  my  long-lost  child!' 

in  prayer,  and  then  stretched  her  arms  out  to  Fleta.  '  My 
child  !  my  long-lost  child  !  it  is — it  is,  indeed  ! '  A  flood  of 
tears  poured  forth  on  Fleta's  neck  relieved  her,  and  we  then 
left  them  together  ;  old  Masterton  observing,  as  we  took  our 
seats  in  the  back  parlour,  *  By  G — ,  Japhet,  you  deserve  to 
find  your  own  father  ! ' 

R  241 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

In  about  an  hour  Lady  de  Clare  requested  to  see  us. 
Fleta  rushed  into  my  arms  and  sobbed,  while  her  mother 
apologised  to  Mr.  Masterton  for  the  delay  and  excusable 
neglect  towards  him.  '  Mr.  Newland,  madam,  is  the  person  to 
whom  you  are  indebted  for  your  present  happiness.  I  will  now 
if  you  please,  take  my  leave,  and  will  call  upon  you  to-morrow.3 

'  I  will  not  detain  you,  Mr.  Masterton  ;  but  Mr.  Newland 
will,  I  trust,  come  home  with  Cecilia  and  me  ;  I  have  much 
to  ask  of  him.'  I  consented,  and  Mr.  Masterton  went  back 
to  town  ;  I  went  to  the  principal  hotel  to  order  a  chaise  and 
horses,  while  Fleta  packed  up  her  wardrobe. 

In  half  an  hour  we  set  off,  and  it  was  midnight  before  we 
arrived  at  Richmond.  During  my  journey  I  narrated  to 
Lady  de  Clare  every  particular  of  our  meeting  with  Fleta. 
We  were  all  glad  to  go  to  bed }  and  the  kind  manner  in  which 
Lady  de  Clare  wished  me  good-night,  with  '  God  bless  you, 
Mr.  Newland  ! '  brought  the  tears  into  my  eyes. 

I  breakfasted  alone  the  next  morning,  Lady  de  Clare  and 
her  daughter  remaining  upstairs.  It  was  nearly  twelve  o'clock 
when  they  made  their  appearance,  both  so  apparently  happy, 
that  I  could  not  help  thinking,  '  When  shall  I  have  such 
pleasure — when  shall  I  find  out  who  is  my  father?'  My 
brow  was  clouded  as  the  thought  entered  my  mind,  when 
Lady  de  Clare  requested  that  I  would  inform  her  who  it  was 
to  whom  she  and  her  daughter  were  under  such  eternal 
obligations.  I  had  then  to  relate  my  own  eventful  history, 
most  of  which  was  as  new  to  Cecilia  (as  she  now  must  be 
called)  as  it  was  to  her  mother.  I  had  just  terminated  the 
escape  from  the  castle,  when  Mr.  Masterton's  carriage  drove 
up  to  the  door.  As  soon  as  he  had  bowed  to  Lady  de  Clare, 
he  said  to  me,  *  Japhet,  here  is  a  letter  directed  to  you,  to  my 
care,  from  Ireland,  which  I  have  brought  for  you.' 

'  It  is  from  Kathleen  M 'Shane,  sir,'  replied  I,  and  request- 
ing leave,  I  broke  the  seal.  It  contained  another.  I  read 
Kathleen's,  and  then  hastily  opened  the  other.  It  was  from 
Nattde,  or  Lady  H.  de  Clare,  and  ran  as  follows  : — 

*  JAPHET  NEWLAND — Fleta  is  the  daughter  of  Sir  William 
de  Clare.  Dearly  has  my  husband  paid  for  his  act  of  folly 
and  wickedness,  and  to  which  you  must  know  I  never  was  a 
party — Yours,  NATTEE.' 

242 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

The  letter  from  Kathleen  added  more  strange  information. 
Lady  de  Clare,  after  the  funeral  of  her  husband,  had  sent  for 
the  steward,  made  every  necessary  arrangement,  discharged 
the  servants,  and  then  had  herself  disappeared,  no  one  knew 
whither  ;  but  it  was  reported  that  somebody  very  much 
resembling  her  had  been  seen  travelling  south  in  company 
with  a  gang  of  gipsies.  I  handed  both  letters  over  to  Lady 
de  Clare  and  Mr.  Masterton. 

'  Poor  Lady  de  Clare  ! '  observed  the  mother. 

'  Nattee  will  never  leave  her  tribe,3  observed  Cecilia 
quietly. 

'  You  are  right,  my  dear,'  replied  I.  '  She  will  be  happier 
with  her  tribe,  where  she  commands  as  a  queen,  than  ever  she 
was  at  the  castle.' 

Mr.  Masterton  then  entered  into  a  detail  with  Lady  de 
Clare  as  to  what  steps  ought  immediately  to  be  taken,  as  the 
heirs-at-law  would  otherwise  give  some  trouble  ;  and  having 
obtained  her  acquiescence,  it  was  time  to  withdraw.  '  Mr. 
Newland,  I  trust  you  will  consider  us  as  your  warmest  friends. 
I  am  so  much  in  your  debt,  that  I  never  can  repay  you ;  but 
I  am  also  in  your  debt  in  a  pecuniary  way — that,  at  least,  you 
must  permit  me  to  refund.' 

'When  I  require  it,  Lady  de  Clare,  I  will  accept  it.  Do 
not,  pray,  vex  me  by  the  proposition.  I  have  not  much 
happiness  as  it  is,  although  I  am  rejoiced  at  yours  and  that  of 
your  daughter.' 

*  Come,  Lady  de  Clare,  I  must  not  allow  you  to  tease  my 
protege',  you  do  not  know  how  sensitive  he  is.  We  will  now 
take  our  leave.' 

'  You  will  come  soon,'  said  Cecilia,  looking  anxiously  at  me. 

1  You  have  your  mother,  Cecilia,'  replied  I  :  '  what  can  you 
wish  for  more  ?  I  am  a — nobody — without  a  parent.' 

Cecilia  burst  into  tears :  I  embraced  her,  and  Mr.  Masterton 
and  I  left  the  room. 


243 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER    LI 

I  return  to  the  gay  world,  but  am  not  well  received  ;   I  am  quite  disgusted 
with  it  and  honesty,  and  everything  else. 

How  strange,  now  that  I  had  succeeded  in  the  next  dearest 
object  of  my  wishes,  after  ascertaining  my  own  parentage, 
that  I  should  have  felt  so  miserable  ;  but  it  was  the  fact,  and 
I  cannot  deny  it.  I  could  hardly  answer  Mr.  Masterton 
during  our  journey  to  town  ;  and  when  I  threw  myself  on  the 
sofa  in  my  own  room,  I  felt  as  if  I  was  desolate  and  deserted. 
I  did  not  repine  at  Cecilia's  happiness ;  so  far  from  it,  I 
would  have  sacrificed  my  life  for  her ;  but  she  was  a  creature 
of  my  own — one  of  the  objects  in  this  world  to  which  I  was 
endeared — one  that  had  been  dependent  on  me  and  loved  me. 
Now  that  she  was  restored  to  her  parent,  she  rose  above  me, 
and  I  was  left  still  more  desolate.  I  do  not  know  that  I  ever 
passed  a  week  of  such  misery  as  the  one  which  followed  a 
denouement  productive  of  so  much  happiness  to  others,  and 
which  had  been  sought  with  so  much  eagerness,  and  at  so 
much  riskr  by  myself.  It  was  no  feeling  of  envy,  God  knows  ; 
but  it  appeared  to  me  as  if  every  one  in  the  world  was  to  be 
made  happy  except  myself.  But  I  had  more  to  bear  up 
against. 

When  I  had  quitted  for  Ireland,  it  was  still  supposed  that  I 
was  a  young  man  of  large  fortune — the  truth  had  not  been  told. 
I  had  acceded  to  Mr.  Masterton's  suggestions,  that  I  was  no 
longer  to  appear  under  false  colours,  and  had  requested 
Harcourt,  to  whom  I  made  known  my  real  condition,  that  he 
would  everywhere  state  the  truth.  News  like  this  flies  like 
wildfire  :  there  were  too  many  whom,  perhaps,  when  under 
the  patronage  of  Major  Carbonnell,  and  the  universal  rapture 
from  my  supposed  wealth,  I  had  treated  with  hauteur,  glad  to 
receive  the  intelligence,  and  spread  it  far  and  wide.  My 
imposition,  as  they  pleased  to  term  it,  was  the  theme  of  every 
party,  and  many  were  the  indignant  remarks  of  the  dowagers 
who  had  so  often  indirectly  proposed  to  me  their  daughters  ; 
and  if  there  was  any  one  more  virulent  than  the  rest,  I  hardly 

244 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

need  say  that  it  was  Lady  Maelstrom,  who  nearly  killed  her 
job  horses  in  driving  about  from  one  acquaintance  to  another, 
to  represent  my  unheard-of  atrocity  in  presuming  to  deceive 
my  betters.  Harcourt,  who  had  agreed  to  live  with  me — 
Harcourt,  who  had  praised  my  magnanimity  in  making  the 
disclosure — even  Harcourt  fell  off;  and  about  a  fortnight  after 
I  had  arrived  in  town,  told  me  that  not  finding  the  lodgings  so 
convenient  as  his  former  abode,  he  intended  to  return  to  it. 
He  took  a  friendly  leave  ;  but  I  perceived  that  if  we  happened 
to  meet  in  the  streets,  he  often  contrived  to  be  looking 
another  way  ;  and  at  last,  a  slight  recognition  was  all  that  I 
received.  Satisfied  that  it  was  intended,  I  no  longer  noticed 
him  :  he  followed  but  the  example  of  others.  So  great  was 
the  outcry  raised  by  those  who  had  hoped  to  have  secured  me 
as  a  good  match,  that  any  young  man  of  fashion  who  was 
seen  with  me,  had,  by  many,  his  name  erased  from  their 
visiting  lists.  This  decided  my  fate,  and  I  was  alone.  For 
some  time  I  bore  up  proudly  ;  I  returned  a  glance  of  defiance, 
but  this  could  not  last.  The  treatment  of  others  received  a 
slight  check  from  the  kindness  of  Lord  Windermear,  who 
repeatedly  asked  me  to  his  table  ;  but  I  perceived  that  even 
there,  although  suffered  as  a  proteg£  of  his  lordship,  anything 
more  than  common  civility  was  studiously  avoided,  in  order 
that  no  intimacy  might  result.  Mr.  Masterton,  upon  whom 
I  occasionally  called,  saw  that  I  was  unwell  and  unhappy.  He 
encouraged  me  ;  but,  alas  !  a  man  must  be  more  than  mortal 
who,  with  fine  feelings,  can  endure  the  scorn  of  the  world. 
Timothy,  poor  fellow,  who  witnessed  more  of  my  unhappy 
state  of  mind  than  anybody  else,  offered  in  vain  his  consola- 
tion. '  And  this,'  thought  I,  'is  the  reward  of  virtue  and 
honesty.  Truly,  virtue  is  its  own  reward,  for  it  obtains  no 
other.  As  long  as  I  was  under  false  colours,  allowing  the 
world  to  deceive  themselves,  I  was  courted  and  flattered. 
Now  that  I  have  thrown  off  the  mask,  and  put  on  the  raiment 
of  truth,  I  am  a  despised,  miserable  being.  Yes  ;  but  is  not 
this  my  own  fault  ?  Did  I  not,  by  my  own  deception,  bring 
all  this  upon  myself?  Whether  unmasked  by  others,  or  by 
myself,  is  it  not  equally  true  that  I  have  been  playing  false, 
and  am  now  punished  for  it  ?  What  do  the  world  care  for 
your  having  returned  to  truth  ?  You  have  offended  by 
deceiving  them,  and  that  is  an  offence  which  your  repentance 

245 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

will  not  extenuate.'  It  was  but  too  true,  I  had  brought  it 
all  on  myself,  and  this  reflection  increased  my  misery.  For 
my  dishonesty,  I  had  been  justly  and  severely  punished : 
whether  I  was  ever  to  be  rewarded  for  my  subsequent  honesty 
still  remained  to  be  proved  ;  but  I  knew  very  well  that  most 
people  would  have  written  off  such  a  reward  as  a  bad  debt. 

Once  I  consulted  with  Mr.  Masterton  as  to  the  chance  of 
there  being  any  information  relative  to  my  birth  in  the  packet 
left  in  the  charge  of  Mr.  Cophagus.  '  I  have  been  thinking 
over  it,  my  dear  Newland,'  said  he,  '  and  I  wish  I  could  give 
you  any  hopes,  but  I  cannot.  Having  succeeded  with  regard 
to  your  little  protdgee,  you  are  now  so  sanguine  with  respect  to 
yourself,  that  a  trifle  light  as  air  is  magnified,  as  the  poet 
says,  "into  confirmation  strong  as  holy  writ."  Now,  consider, 
somebody  calls  at  the  Foundling  to  ask  after  you — which  I 
acknowledge  to  be  a  satisfactory  point — his  name  is  taken 
down  by  an  illiterate  brute,  as  Derbennon  ;  but  how  you  can 
decide  upon  the  real  name,  and  assume  it  is  De  Benyon,  is 
really  more  than  I  can  imagine,  allowing  every  scope  to  fancy. 
It  is  in  the  first  instance,  therefore,  you  are  at  fault,  as  there 
are  many  other  names  which  may  have  been  given  by  the 
party  who  called ;  nay,  more,  is  it  at  all  certain  that  the  party, 
in  a  case  like  this,  would  give  his  real  name  ?  Let  us  follow 
it  up.  Allowing  the  name  to  have  been  De  Benyon,  you 
discover  that  one  brother  is  not  married,  and  that  there  are 
some  papers  belonging  to  him  in  the  possession  of  an  old 
woman  who  dies  ;  and  upon  these  slight  grounds  what  would 
you  attempt  to  establish  ?  that  because  that  person  was 
known  not  to  have  married,  therefore  he  was  married  (for  you 
are  stated  to  have  been  born  in  wedlock)  ;  and  because  there 
is  a  packet  of  papers  belonging  to  him  in  the  possession  of 
another  party,  that  this  packet  of  papers  must  refer  to  you. 
Do  you  not  perceive  how  you  are  led  away  by  your  excited 
feelings  on  the  subject  ? ' 

I  could  not  deny  that  Mr.  Masterton's  arguments  had 
demolished  the  whole  fabric  which  I  had  built  up.  *  You  are 
right,  sir,'  replied  I  mournfully.  '  I  wish  I  were  dead.' 

'  Never  speak  in  that  way,  Mr.  Newland,  before  me,'  replied 
the  old  lawyer  in  an  angry  tone,  '  without  you  wish  to  forfeit 
my  good  opinion.' 

'  I  beg  your  pardon,  sir  ;  but  I  am  most  miserable.  I  am 
246 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

avoided  by  all  who  know  me — thrown  out  of  all  society — I 
have  not  a  parent  or  a  relative.  Isolated  being  as  I  am,  what 
have  I  to  live  for  ? ' 

*  My  dear  fellow,  you  are  not  twenty-three  years  of  age,' 
replied  Mr.  Masterton,  '  and  you  have  made  two  sincere 
friends,  both  powerful  in  their  own  way.  I  mean  Lord 
Windermear  and  myself:  and  you  have  had  the  pleasure  of 
making  others  happy.  Believe  me,  that  is  much  to  have 
accomplished  at  so  early  an  age.  You  have  much  to  live  for 
— live  to  gain  more  friends — live  to  gain  reputation — live  to 
do  good — to  be  grateful  for  the  benefits  you  have  received,  and 
to  be  humble  when  chastened  by  Providence.  You  have  yet 
to  learn  where,  and  only  where,  true  happiness  is  to  be  found. 
Since  you  are  so  much  out  of  spirits,  go  down  to  Lady  de 
Clare's,  see  her  happiness,  and  that  of  her  little  girl ;  and  then, 
when  you  reflect  that  it  was  your  own  work,  you  will  hardly 
say  that  you  have  lived  in  vain.'  I  was  too  much  overpowered 
to  speak.  After  a  pause,  Mr.  Masterton  continued,  '  When 
did  you  see  them  last  ? ' 

'  I  have  never  seen  them,  sir,  since  I  was  with  you  at  their 
meeting.5 

'What!  have  you  not  called — now  nearly  two  months? 
Japhet,  you  are  wrong  :  they  will  be  hurt  at  your  neglect  and 
want  of  kindness.  Have  you  written  or  heard  from  them  ?  ' 

'  I  have  received  one  or  two  pressing  invitations,  sir ;  but 
I  have  not  been  in  a  state  of  mind  to  avail  myself  of  their 
politeness.' 

'  Politeness  !  you  are  wrong — all  wrong,  Japhet.  Your 
mind  is  cankered,  or  you  never  would  have  used  that  term. 
I  thought  you  were  composed  of  better  materials ;  but  it 
appears,  that  although  you  can  sail  with  a  fair  wind,  you 
cannot  buffet  against  an  adverse  gale.  Because  you  are  no 
longer  fooled  and  flattered  by  the  interested  and  the  designing, 
like  many  others  you  have  quarrelled  with  the  world.  Is  it 
not  so  ? ' 

1  Perhaps  you  are  right,  sir.' 

'  I  know  that  I  am  right,  and  that  you  are  wrong.  Now  I 
shall  be  seriously  displeased  if  you  do  not  go  down  and  see 
Lady  de  Clare  and  her  daughter,  as  soon  as  you  can.' 

'  I  will  obey  your  orders,  sir.' 

1  My  wishes,  Japhet,  not  my  orders.  Let  me  see  you  when 
247 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

you  return.  You  must  no  longer  be  idle.  Consider,  that  you 
are  about  to  recommence  your  career  in  life  ;  that  hitherto 
you  have  pursued  the  wrong  path,  from  which  you  have  nobly 
returned.  You  must  prepare  for  exertions,  and  learn  to  trust 
to  God  and  a  good  conscience.  Lord  Windermear  and  I  had 
a  long  conversation  relative  to  you  yesterday  evening  ;  and 
when  you  come  back,  I  will  detail  to  you  what  are  our  views 
respecting  your  future  advantage.' 


CHAPTER    LII 

A  new  character  appears,  but  not  a  very  amiable  one  ;  but  I  attach  myself 
to  him,  as  drowning  men  catch  at  straws. 

I  TOOK  my  leave,  more  composed  in  mind,  and  the  next  day 
I  went  down  to  Lady  de  Clare's.  I  was  kindly  received, 
more  than  kindly,  I  was  affectionately  and  parentally  received 
by  the  mother,  and  by  Cecilia  as  a  dear  brother ;  but  they 
perceived  my  melancholy,  and  when  they  had  upbraided  me 
for  my  long  neglect,  they  inquired  the  cause.  As  I  had 
already  made  Lady  de  Clare  acquainted  with  my  previous 
history,  I  had  no  secrets ;  in  fact,  it  was  a  consolation  to 
confide  my  griefs  to  them.  Lord  Windermear  was  too  much 
above  me — Mr.  Masterton  was  too  matter-of-fact — Timothy 
was  too  inferior — and  they  were  all  men  ;  but  the  kind  sooth- 
ing of  a  woman  was  peculiarly  grateful,  and  after  a  sojourn  of 
three  days,  I  took  my  leave,  with  my  mind  much  less  depressed 
than  when  I  arrived. 

On  my  return,  I  called  upon  Mr.  Masterton,  who  stated  to 
me  that  Lord  Windermear  was  anxious  to  serve  me,  and  that 
he  would  exert  his  interest  in  any  way  which  might  be  most 
congenial  to  my  feelings  ;  that  he  would  procure  me  a  com- 
mission in  the  army,  or  a  writership  to  India  ;  or,  if  I  preferred 
it,  I  might  study  the  law  under  the  auspices  of  Mr.  Masterton. 
If  none  of  these  propositions  suited  me,  I  might  state  what 
would  be  preferred,  and  that,  as  far  as  his  interest  and 
pecuniary  assistance  could  avail,  I  might  depend  on  it. 
'  So  now,  Japhet,  you  may  go  home  and  reflect  seriously  upon 
these  offers  ;  and  when  you  have  made  up  your  mind  what 
course  you  will  steer,  you  have  only  to  let  me  know.' 

248 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  returned  my  thanks  to  Mr.  Masterton,  and  begged  that 
he  would  convey  my  grateful  acknowledgments  to  his  lordship. 
As  I  walked  home,  I  met  a  Captain  Atkinson,  a  man  of  very 
doubtful  character,  whom,  by  the  advice  of  Carbonnell,  I  had 
always  kept  at  a  distance.  He  had  lost  a  large  fortune  by 
gambling,  and  having  been  pigeoned,  had,  as  is  usual,  ended 
by  becoming  a  rook.  He  was  a  fashionable,  well -looking 
man,  of  good  family,  suffered  in  society,  for  he  had  found  out 
that  it  was  necessary  to  hold  his  position  by  main  force.  He 
was  a  noted  duellist,  had  killed  his  three  or  four  men,  and  a 
cut  direct  from  any  person  was,  with  him,  sufficient  grounds 
for  sending  a  friend.  Everybody  was  civil  to  him,  because 
no  one  wished  to  quarrel  with  him. 

'  My  dear  Mr.  Newland,'  said  he,  offering  his  hand,  '  I  am 
delighted  to  see  you  ;  I  have  heard  at  the  clubs  of  your  mis- 
fortune, and  there  were  some  free  remarks  made  by  some.  I 
have  great  pleasure  in  saying  that  I  put  an  immediate  stop  to 
them,  by  telling  them  that,  if  they  were  repeated  in  my 
presence,  I  should  consider  it  as  a  personal  quarrel.3 

Three  months  before,  had  I  met  Captain  Atkinson,  I  should 
have  returned  his  bow  with  studied  politeness,  and  have  left 
him  ;  but  how  changed  were  my  feelings  !  I  took  his  hand, 
and  shook  it  warmly. 

*  My  dear  sir,'  replied  I,  '  I  am  very  much  obliged  for  your 
kind  and  considerate  conduct ;  there  are  more  who  are  inclined 
to  calumniate  than  to  defend.' 

'  And  always  will  be  in  this  world,  Mr.  Newland  ;  but  I 
have  a  fellow-feeling.  I  recollect  how  I  was  received  and 
flattered  when  I  was  introduced  as  a  young  man  of  fortune, 
and  how  I  was  deserted  and  neglected  when  I  was  cleaned 
out.  I  know  now  why  they  are  so  civil  to  me,  and  I  value 
their  civility  at  just  as  much  as  it  is  worth.  Will  you  accept 
my  arm  ? — I  am  going  your  way.' 

I  could  not  refuse  ;  but  I  coloured  when  I  took  it,  for  I  felt 
that  I  was  not  adding  to  my  reputation  by  being  seen  in  his 
company ;  and  still  I  felt,  that  although  not  adding  to  my 
reputation,  I  was  less  likely  to  receive  insult,  and  that  the 
same  cause  which  induced  them  to  be  civil  to  him,  would 
perhaps  operate  when  they  found  me  allied  with  him.  '  Be  it 
so,'  thought  I,  '  I  will,  if  possible,  extort  politeness.' 

We  were  strolling  down  Bond  Street,  when  we  met  a  young 
249 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

man,  well  known  in  the  fashionable  circles,  who  had  dropped 
my  acquaintance,  after  having  been  formerly  most  pressing  to 
obtain  it.  Atkinson  faced  him.  '  Good  morning,  Mr.  Oxberry.' 

'  Good  morning,  Captain  Atkinson,'  replied  Mr.  Oxberry. 

'  I  thought  you  knew  my  friend  Mr.  Newland  ? '  observed 
Atkinson,  rather  fiercely. 

'Oh!  really — I  quite — I  beg  pardon.  Good  morning, 
Mr.  Newland  ;  you  have  been  long  absent.  I  did  not  see  you 
at  Lady  Maelstrom's  last  night.' 

'  No,'  replied  I,  carelessly,  '  nor  will  you  ever.  When  you 
next  see  her  ladyship,  ask  her,  with  my  compliments,  whether 
she  has  had  another  fainting  fit.' 

'  I  shall  certainly  have  great  pleasure  in  carrying  your 
message,  Mr.  Newland — good  morning.' 

'  That  fool,'  observed  Atkinson,  '  will  now  run  all  over  town, 
and  you  will  see  the  consequence.' 

We  met  one  or  two  others,  and  to  them  Atkinson  put  the 
same  question,  '  I  thought  you  knew  my  friend  Mr.  Newland  ?' 
At  last,  just  as  we  arrived  at  my  own  house  in  St.  James's 
Street,  who  should  we  meet  but  Harcourt.  Harcourt  imme- 
diately perceived  me,  and  bowed  low  as  he  passed  on,  so  that 
his  bow  would  have  served  for  both  ;  but  Atkinson  stopped. 
*  I  must  beg  your  pardon,  Harcourt,  for  detaining  you  a  mo- 
ment, but  what  are  the  odds  upon  the  Vestris  colt  for  the 
Derby?' 

'  Upon  my  word,  Captain  Atkinson,  I  was  told,  but  I  have 
forgotten.' 

'Your  memory  appears  bad,  for  you  have  also  forgotten 
your  old  friend  Mr.  Newland.' 

'  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Newland.' 

'There  is  no  occasion  to  beg  my  pardon,  Mr.  Harcourt,' 
interrupted  I  ;  '  for  I  tell  you  plainly,  that  I  despise  you  too 
much  to  ever  wish  to  be  acquainted  with  you.  You  will 
oblige  me,  sir,  by  never  presuming  to  touch  your  hat,  or 
otherwise  notice  me.J 

Harcourt  coloured,  and  started  back.  '  Such  language, 
Mr.  Newland — 

'  Is  what  you  deserve  :  ask  your  own  conscience.  Leave 
us,  sir '  ;  and  I  walked  on  with  Captain  Atkinson. 

'  You  have  done  well,  Newland,'  observed  Atkinson  :  '  he 
cannot  submit  to  that  language,  for  he  knows  that  I  have 

250 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

heard  it.  A  meeting  you  will  of  course  have  no  objection  to. 
It  will  be  of  immense  advantage  to  you.' 

'  None  whatever,'  replied  I  ;  'for  if  there  is  any  one  man 
who  deserves  to  be  punished  for  his  conduct  towards  me,  it  is 
Harcourt.  Will  you  come  up,  Captain  Atkinson,  and,  if  not 
better  engaged,  take  a  quiet  dinner  and  a  bottle  of  wine  with 
me  ? ' 

Our  conversation  during  dinner  was  desultory ;  but  after 
the  first  bottle,  Atkinson  became  communicative,  and  his 
history  not  only  made  me  feel  better  inclined  towards  him, 
but  afforded  me  another  instance,  as  well  as  Carbonnell's,  how 
often  it  is  that  those  who  would  have  done  well  are  first 
plundered,  and  then  driven  to  desperation  by  the  heartlessness 
of  the  world.  The  cases,  however,  had  this  difference,  that 
Carbonnell  had  always  contrived  to  keep  his  reputation  above 
water,  while  that  of  Atkinson  was  gone,  and  never  to  be 
re-established.  We  had  just  finished  our  wine  when  a  note 
was  brought  from  Harcourt,  informing  me  that  he  should  send 
a  friend  the  next  morning  for  an  explanation  of  my  conduct. 
I  handed  it  over  to  Atkinson.  '  My  dear  sir,  I  am  at  your 
service,'  replied  he,  'without  you  have  anybody  among  your 
acquaintances  whom  you  may  prefer.' 

'  Thank  you,'  replied  I,  '  Captain  Atkinson  :  it  cannot  be 
in  better  hands.' 

'  That  is  settled,  then  ;  and  now  where  shall  we  go  ? ' 

4  Wherever  you  please.' 

'  Then  I  shall  try  if  I  can  win  a  little  money  to-night :  if 
you  come  you  need  not  play — you  can  look  on.  It  will  serve 
to  divert  your  thoughts,  at  all  events.' 

I  felt  so  anxious  to  avoid  reflection,  that  I  immediately 
accepted  his  offer ;  and  in  a  few  minutes  we  were  in  the  well- 
lighted  room,  and  in  front  of  the  rouge  et  noir  table,  covered 
with  gold  and  bank  notes.  Atkinson  did  not  commence  his 
play  immediately,  but  pricked  the  chances  on  a  card  as  they 
ran.  After  half  an  hour  he  laid  down  his  stakes,  and  was 
fortunate.  I  could  no  longer  withstand  the  temptation,  and 
I  backed  him ;  in  less  than  an  hour  we  both  had  won 
considerably. 

'  That  is  enough,'  said  he  to  me,  sweeping  up  his  money ; 
'we  must  not  try  the  slippery  dame  too  long.' 

I  followed  his  example,  and  shortly  afterwards  we  quitted 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

the  house.  '  I  will  walk  home  with  you,  Newland :  never,  if 
you  can  help  it,  especially  if  you  have  been  a  winner,  leave  a 
gaming-house  alone.' 

Going  home,  I  asked  Atkinson  if  he  would  come  up ;  he 
did  so,  and  then  we  examined  our  winnings.  '  I  know  mine,5 
replied  he,  '  within  twenty  pounds,  for  I  always  leave  off  at  a 
certain  point.  I  have  three  hundred  pounds,  and  something 
more.' 

He  had  won  three  hundred  and  twenty-five  pounds,  I  had 
won  ninety  pounds.  As  we  sat  over  a  glass  of  brandy  and 
water,  I  inquired  whether  he  was  always  fortunate.  '  No,  of 
course  I  am  not,'  replied  Atkinson  ;  '  but  on  the  whole,  in  the 
course  of  the  year,  I  am  a  winner  of  sufficient  to  support 
myself.' 

'  Is  there  any  rule  by  which  people  are  guided  who  play  ? 
I  observed  many  of  those  who  were  seated  pricking  the 
chances  with  great  care,  and  then  staking  their  money  at 
intervals.3 

'  Rouge  et  noir  I  believe  to  be  the  fairest  of  all  games,' 
replied  Atkinson  ;  '  but  where  there  is  a  percentage  invariably  in 
favour  of  the  bank,  although  one  may  win  and  another  lose,  still 
the  profits  must  be  in  favour  of  the  bank.  If  a  man  were  to  play 
all  the  year  round,  he  would  lose  the  National  Debt  in  the  end. 
As  for  martingales,  and  all  those  calculations,  which  you 
observed  them  so  busy  with,  they  are  all  useless.  I  have 
tried  everything,  and  there  is  only  one  chance  of  success,  but 
then  you  must  not  be  a  gambler? 

'  Not  a  gambler  ? ' 

'  No ;  you  must  not  be  carried  away  by  the  excitement  of 
the  game,  or  you  will  infallibly  lose.  You  must  have  a 
strength  of  mind  which  few  have,  or  you  will  be  soon  cleaned 
out.' 

*  But  you  say  that  you  win  on  the  whole  :  have  you  no  rule 
to  guide  you  ? ' 

'  Yes,  I  have  :  strange  as  the  chances  are,  I  have  been  so 
accustomed  to  them,  that  I  generally  put  down  my  stake 
right :  when  I  am  once  in  a  run  of  luck,  I  have  a  method  of 
my  own,  but  what  it  is  I  cannot  tell ;  only  this  I  know,  that 
if  I  depart  from  it,  I  always  lose  my  money.  But  that  is 
what  you  may  call  good  luck,  or  what  you  please — it  is  not  a 
rule.' 

252 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Where,  then,  are  your  rules  ? ' 

'  Simply  these  two.  The  first  is  not  difficult  to  adhere  to  : 
I  make  a  rule  never  to  lose  but  a  certain  sum  if  I  am  unlucky 
when  I  commence — say  twenty  stakes,  whatever  may  be  the 
amount  of  the  stake  that  you  play.  This  rule  is  easily 
adhered  to,  by  not  taking  more  money  with  you  ;  and  I  am 
not  one  of  those  to  whom  the  croupier  or  porters  will  lend 
money.  The  second  rule  is  the  most  difficult,  and  decides 
whether  you  are  a  gambler  or  not.  I  make  a  rule  always  to 
leave  off  when  I  have  won  a  certain  sum — or  even  before,  if 
the  chances  of  my  game  fluctuate.  There  is  the  difficulty :  it 
appears  very  foolish  not  to  follow  up  luck  ;  but  the  fact  is, 
fortune  is  so  capricious,  that  if  you  trust  her  more  than  an 
hour,  she  will  desert  you.  This  is  my  mode  of  play,  and  with 
me  it  answers  ;  but  it  does  not  follow  that  it  would  answer 
with  another.  But  it  is  very  late,  or  rather,  very  early — I 
wish  you  a  good-night.' 


CHAPTER    LIII 

Become  principal  instead  of  second  in  a  duel,  and  risk  my  own  and 
another's  life,  my  own  and  others'  happiness  and  peace  of  mind, 
because  I  have  been  punished  as  I  deserved. 

AFTER  Captain  Atkinson  had  left  me,  I  stated  to  Timothy 
what  had  passed.  '  And  do  you  think  you  will  have  to  fight 
a  duel,  sir  ? '  cried  Timothy  with  alarm. 

*  There  is  no  doubt  of  it,'  replied  I. 

*  You  will  never  find  your  father,  sir,  if  you  go  on  this  way,' 
said  Timothy,  as  if  to  divert  my  attention  from  such  a  purpose. 

'  Not  in  this  world,  perhaps,  Tim  ;  perhaps  I  may  be  sent 
the  right  road  by  a  bullet,  and  find  him  in  the  next.' 

'  Do  you  think  your  father,  if  dead,  has  gone  to  heaven  ? ' 

'  I  hope  so,  Timothy.' 

'  Then  what  chance  have  you  of  meeting  him,  if  you  go  out 
of  the  world  attempting  the  life  of  your  old  friend  ? ' 

'  That  is  what  you  call  a  poser,  my  dear  Timothy,  but  I 
cannot  help  myself:  this  I  can  safely  say,  that  I  have  no 

253 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

animosity  against  Mr.  Harcourt — at  least,  not  sufficient  to 
have  any  wish  to  take  away  his  life.' 

'  Well,  that's  something,  to  be  sure  ;  but  do  you  know, 
Japhet,  I'm  not  quite  sure  you  hit  the  right  road  when  you  set 
up  for  a  gentleman.' 

'  No,  Timothy,  no  man  can  be  in  the  right  road  who 
deceives :  I  have  been  all  wrong ;  and  I  am  afraid  I  am 
going  from  worse  to  worse  :  but  I  cannot  moralise,  I  must  go 
to  sleep,  and  forget  everything,  if  I  can.' 

The  next  morning,  about  eleven  o'clock,  a  Mr.  Cotgrave 
called  upon  me  on  the  part  of  Harcourt.  I  referred  him 
to  Captain  Atkinson,  and  he  bowed  and  quitted  the  room. 
Captain  Atkinson  soon  called :  he  had  remained  at  home 
expecting  the  message,  and  had  made  every  arrangement 
with  the  second.  He  stayed  with  me  the  whole  day.  The 
major's  pistols  were  examined  and  approved  of.  We  dined, 
drank  freely,  and  he  afterwards  proposed  that  I  should 
accompany  him  to  one  of  the  hells,  as  they  are  called.  This 
I  refused,  as  I  had  some  arrangements  to  make ;  and  as 
soon  as  he  was  gone  I  sent  for  Timothy. 

'  Tim,'  said  I,  'if  I  should  be  unlucky  to-morrow,  you  are 
my  executor  and  residuary  legatee.  My  will  was  made  when 
in  Dublin,  and  is  in  the  charge  of  Mr.  Cophagus.' 

'Japhet,  I  hope  you  will  allow  me  one  favour,  which  is, 
to  go  to  the  ground  with  you.  I  had  rather  be  there  than 
remain  here  in  supense.' 

'  Of  course,  my  dear  fellow,  if  you  wish  it,'  replied  I  ; 
'  but  I  must  go  to  bed,  as  I  am  to  be  called  at  four  o'clock 
— so  let's  have  no  sentimentalising  or  sermonising.  Good- 
night, God  bless  you.' 

I  was,  at  that  time,  in  a  state  of  mind  which  made  me 
reckless  of  life  or  of  consequences  ;  stung  by  the  treatment 
which  I  received,  mad  with  the  world's  contumely,  I  was 
desperate.  True  it  was,  as  Mr.  Masterton  said,  I  had  not 
courage  to  buffet  against  an  adverse  gale.  Timothy  did 
not  go  to  bed,  and  at  four  o'clock  was  at  my  side.  I  rose, 
dressed  myself  with  the  greatest  care,  and  was  soon  joined 
by  Captain  Atkinson.  We  then  set  off  in  a  hackney-coach 
to  the  same  spot  to  which  I  had,  but  a  few  months  before, 
driven  with  poor  Carbonnell.  His  memory  and  his  death 
came  like  a  cloud  over  my  mind,  but  it  was  but  for  a 

254 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

moment.  I  cared  little  for  life.  Harcourt  and  his  second 
were  on  the  ground  a  few  minutes  before  us.  Each  party 
saluted  politely,  and  the  seconds  proceeded  to  business.  We 
fired,  and  Harcourt  fell,  with  a  bullet  above  his  knee.  I 
went  up  to  him,  and  he  extended  his  hand.  '  Newland,' 
said  he,  '  I  have  deserved  this.  I  was  a  coward,  in  the 
first  place,  to  desert  you  as  I  did — and  a  coward,  in  the 
second,  to  fire  at  a  man  whom  I  had  injured.  Gentlemen,' 


'  Harcourt  fell  -with  a  bullet  above  his  knee' 

continued  he,  appealing  to  the  seconds,  'recollect,  I,  before 
you,  acquit  Mr.  Newland  of  all  blame,  and  desire,  if  any 
further  accident  should  happen  to  me,  that  my  relations  will 
take  no  steps  whatever  against  him.' 

Harcourt  was  very  pale,  and  bleeding  fast.  Without  any 
answer  I  examined  the  wound,  and  found,  by  the  colour  of 
the  blood,  and  its  gushing,  that  an  artery  had  been  divided. 
My  professional  knowledge  saved  his  life.  I  compressed 
the  artery,  while  I  gave  directions  to  the  others.  A  handker- 
chief was  tied  tight  round  his  thigh,  above  the  wound — a 

255 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

round  stone  selected,  and  placed  under  the  handkerchief,  in 
the  femoral  groove,  and  the  ramrod  of  one  of  the  pistols 
then  made  use  of  as  a  winch,  until  the  whole  acted  as  a 
tourniquet.  I  removed  my  thumbs,  found  that  the  hemorrhage 
was  stopped,  and  then  directed  that  he  should  be  taken 
home  on  a  door,  and  surgical  assistance  immediately  sent  for. 

'  You  appear  to  understand  these  things,  sir,'  said  Mr. 
Cotgrave.  '  Tell  me,  is  there  any  danger  ? ' 

'  He  must  suffer  amputation,'  replied  I,  in  a  low  voice, 
so  that  Harcourt  could  not  hear  me.  '  Pray  watch  the 
tourniquet  carefully  as  he  is  taken  home,  for  should  it  slip 
it  will  be  fatal.' 

I  then  bowed  to  Mr.  Cotgrave,  and,  followed  by  Captain 
Atkinson,  stepped  into  the  hackney-coach  and  drove  home. 
'  I  will  leave  you  now,  Newland,'  said  Captain  Atkinson : 
'it  is  necessary  that  I  talk  this  matter  over,  so  that  it  is 
properly  explained.' 

I  thanked  Captain  Atkinson  for  his  services,  and  was 
left  alone  ;  for  I  had  sent  Timothy  to  ascertain  if  Harcourt 
had  arrived  safe  at  his  lodgings.  Never  did  I  feel  more 
miserable  ;  my  anxiety  for  Harcourt  was  indescribable  ;  true, 
he  had  not  treated  me  well,  but  I  thought  of  his  venerable 
father,  who  pressed  my  hand  so  warmly  when  I  left  his 
hospitable  roof — of  his  lovely  sisters,  and  the  kindness  and 
affection  which  they  had  shown  towards  me,  and  our  extreme 
intimacy.  I  thought  of  the  pain  which  the  intelligence  would 
give  them,  and  their  indignation  towards  me,  when  their 
brother  first  made  his  appearance  at  his  father's  house, 
mutilated  ;  and  were  he  to  die — good  God  !  I  was  maddened 
at  the  idea.  I  had  now  undone  the  little  good  I  had  been 
able  to  do.  If  I  had  made  Fleta  and  her  mother  happy, 
had  I  not  plunged  another  family  into  misery  ? 


CHAPTER   LIV 

This  is  a  strange  world  ;  I  am  cut  by  a  man  of  no  character,  because 
he  is  fearful  that  I  should  injure  his  character. 

TIMOTHY  returned,  and  brought  me  consolation — the  bleed- 
ing had  not   recommenced,    and   Harcourt   was   in   tolerable 

256 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

spirits.  An  eminent  surgeon  had  been  sent  for.  <  Go  again, 
my  dear  Timothy,  and  as  you  are  intimate  with  Harcourt's 
servant,  you  will  be  able  to  find  out  what  they  are  about.' 

Timothy  departed,  and  was  absent  about  an  hour,  during 
which  I  lay  on  the  sofa,  and  groaned  with  anguish.  When 
he  returned,  I  knew  by  his  face  that  his  intelligence  was 
favourable. 

'  All's  right,'  cried  Timothy ;  *  no  amputation  after  all. 
It  was  only  one  of  the  smaller  arteries  which  was  severed, 
and  they  have  taken  it  up.' 

I  sprang  up  from  the  sofa  and  embraced  Timothy,  so 
happy  was  I  with  the  intelligence,  and  then  I  sat  down  again, 
and  cried  like  a  child.  At  last  I  became  more  composed. 
I  had  asked  Captain  Atkinson  to  dine  with  me,  and  was 
very  glad  when  he  came.  He  confirmed  Timothy's  report, 
and  I  was  so  overjoyed,  that  I  sat  late  at  dinner,  drinking 
very  freely,  and  when  he  again  proposed  that  we  should  go 
to  the  rouge  et  noir  table,  I  did  not  refuse — on  the  contrary, 
flushed  with  wine,  I  was  anxious  to  go,  and  took  all  the 
money  that  I  had  with  me.  On  our  arrival  Atkinson  played, 
but  finding  that  he  was  not  fortunate,  he  very  soon  left 
off.  As  I  had  followed  his  game,  I  also  had  lost  consider- 
ably, and  he  entreated  me  not  to  play  any  more  —  but  / 
was  a  gamester,  it  appeared,  and  I  would  not  pay  attention 
to  him,  and  did  not  quit  the  table  until  I  had  lost  every 
shilling  in  my  pocket.  I  left  the  house  in  no  very  good 
humour,  and  Atkinson,  who  had  waited  for  me,  accompanied 
me  home. 

'  Newland,'  said  he,  '  I  don't  know  what  you  may  think 
of  me — you  may  have  heard  that  I'm  a  roue,  etc.,  etc.,  etc., 
but  this  I  always  do,  which  is,  caution  those  who  are 
gamesters  from  their  hearts.  I  have  watched  you  to-night, 
and  I  tell  you,  that  you  will  be  ruined  if  you  continue  to 
frequent  that  table.  You  have  no  command  over  yourself. 
I  do  not  know  what  your  means  may  be,  but  this  I  do  know, 
that  if  you  were  a  Croesus,  you  would  be  a  beggar.  I  cared 
nothing  for  you  while  you  were  the  Mr.  Newland,  the  admired, 
and  leader  of  the  fashion  ;  but  I  felt  for  you  when  I  heard 
that  you  were  scouted  from  society,  merely  because  it  was 
found  out  that  you  were  not  so  rich  as  you  were  supposed  to 
be.  I  had  a  fellow-feeling,  as  I  told  you.  I  did  not  make 
S  257 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

your  acquaintance  to  win  your  money — I  can  win  as  much 
as  I  wish  from  the  scoundrels  who  keep  the  tables,  or  from 
those  who  would  not  scruple  to  plunder  others  ;  and  I  now 
entreat  you  not  to  return  to  that  place — and  am  sorry,  very 
sorry,  that  ever  I  took  you  there.  To  me,  the  excitement  is 
nothing — to  you  it  is  overpowering.  You  are  a  gamester, 
or  rather,  you  have  it  in  your  disposition.  Take,  therefore, 
the  advice  of  a  friend,  if  I  may  so  call  myself,  and  do  not 
go  there  again.  I  hope  you  are  not  seriously  inconvenienced 
by  what  you  have  lost  to-night.3 

'  Not  the  least,'  replied  I.  'It  was  ready  money.  I  thank 
you  for  your  advice,  and  will  follow  it.  I  have  been  a  fool  to- 
night, and  one  folly  is  sufficient.' 

Atkinson  then  left  me.  I  had  lost  about  two  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds,  which  included  my  winnings  of  the  night 
before.  I  was  annoyed  at  it,  but  I  thought  of  Harcourt's 
safety,  and  felt  indifferent.  The  reader  may  recollect,  that 
I  had  three  thousand  pounds,  which  Mr.  Masterton  had 
offered  to  put  out  at  mortgage  for  me,  but  until  he  could 
find  an  opportunity,  by  his  advice  I  had  bought  stock  in 
the  Three  per  Cents.  Since  that  time  he  had  not  succeeded, 
as  mortgages  in  general  are  for  larger  sums,  and  it  had 
therefore  remained.  My  rents  were  not  yet  due,  and  I  was 
obliged  to  have  recourse  to  this  money.  I  therefore  went 
into  the  city,  and  ordered  the  broker  to  sell  out  two  hundred 
pounds,  intending  to  replace  it  as  soon  as  I  could — for  I 
would  not  have  liked  that  Mr.  Masterton  should  have  known 
that  I  had  lost  money  by  gambling.  When  I  returned  from 
the  city,  I  found  Captain  Atkinson  in  my  apartments,  waiting 
for  me. 

*  Harcourt  is  doing  well,  and  you  are  not  doing  badly.      I 
have  let  all  the  world  know  that  you  intend  to  call  out  whoever 
presumes  to  treat  you  with  indifference.' 

*  The  devil  you  have  !  but  that  is  a  threat  which  may  easier 
be  made  than  followed  up  by  deeds.' 

'  Shoot  two  or  three  more,'  replied  Atkinson  coolly,  '  and 
then,  depend  upon  it,  you'll  have  it  all  your  own  way.  As  it 
is,  I  acknowledge  there  has  been  some  show  of  resistance,  and 
they  talk  of  making  a  resolution  not  to  meet  you,  on  the  score 
of  your  being  an  impostor.' 

'  And  a  very  plausible  reason,  too,3  replied  I  ;   '  nor  do  I 

358 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

think  I  have  any  right — I  am  sure  I  have  no  intention  of  doing 
as  you  propose.  Surely,  people  have  a  right  to  choose  their 
acquaintance,  and  to  cut  me,  if  they  think  I  have  done  wrong. 
I  am  afraid,  Captain  Atkinson,  you  have  mistaken  me  ;  I  have 
punished  Harcourt  for  his  conduct  towards  me — he  deserved 
punishment.  I  had  claims  on  him  ;  but  I  have  not  upon  the 
hundreds,  whom,  when  in  the  zenith  of  my  popularity,  I  myself, 
perhaps,  was  not  over  courteous  to.  I  cannot  run  the  muck 
which  you  propose,  nor  do  I  consider  that  I  shall  help  my 
character  by  so  doing.  I  may  become  notorious,  but  certainly, 
I  shall  not  obtain  that  species  of  notoriety  which  will  be  of 
service  to  me.  No,  no  ;  I  have  done  too  much,  I  may  say, 
already  ;  and,  although  not  so  much  to  blame  as  the  world 
imagines,  yet  my  own  conscience  tells  me,  that  by  allowing  it 
to  suppose  that  I  was  what  I  was  not,  I  have,  to  say  the  least, 
been  a  party  to  the  fraud,  and  must  take  the  consequence. 
My  situation  now  is  very  unpleasant,  and  I  ought  to  retire, 
and,  if  possible,  reappear  with  real  claims  upon  the  public 
favour.  I  have  still  friends,  thank  God !  and  influential 
friends.  I  am  offered  a  writership  in  India — a  commission  in 
the  army — or  to  study  the  law.  Will  you  favour  me  with  your 
opinion  ? ' 

'You  pay  me  a  compliment  by  asking  my  advice.  A 
writership  in  India  is  fourteen  years'  transportation,  returning 
with  plenty  to  live  on,  but  no  health  to  enjoy  it.  In  the  army 
you  might  do  well,  and,  moreover,  as  an  officer  in  the  army,  none 
dare  refuse  to  go  out  with  you.  At  the  same  time,  under  your 
peculiar  circumstances,  I  think  if  you  were  in  a  crack  regiment, 
you  would,  in  all  probability,  have  to  fight  one  half  the  mess, 
and  be  put  in  Coventry  by  the  other.  You  must  then  exchange 
on  half-pay,  and  your  commission  would  be  a  great  help  to 
you.  As  for  the  law — I'd  sooner  see  a  brother  of  mine  in  his 
coffin.  There,  you  have  my  opinion.' 

*  Not  a  very  encouraging  one,  at  all  events,'  replied  I, 
laughing  ;  '  but  there  is  much  truth  in  your  observations.  To 
India  I  will  not  go,  as  it  will  interfere  with  the  great  object  of 
my  existence.' 

'  And  pray,  if  it  be  no  secret,  may  I  ask  what  that  is  ?  " 

'  To  find  out  who  is  my  father} 

Captain  Atkinson  looked  very  hard  at  me.  '  I  more  than 
once,'  said  he,  'have  thought  you  a  little  cracked,  but  now  I 

259 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

perceive  you  are  mad — downright  mad:  don't  be  angry,  I 
couldn't  help  saying  so,  and  if  you  wish  me  to  give  you  satisfac- 
tion, I  shall  most  unwillingly  oblige  you.' 

'  No,  no,  Atkinson,  I  believe  you  are  not  very  far  wrong, 
and  I  forgive  you — but  to  proceed.  The  army,  as  you  say, 
will  give  me  a  position  in  society,  from  my  profession  being 
that  of  a  gentleman,  but,  as  I  do  not  wish  to  take  the  advantage 
which  you  have  suggested  from  the  position,  I  shrink  from 
putting  myself  into  one  which  may  lead  to  much  mortification. 
As  for  the  law,  although  I  do  not  exactly  agree  with  you  in 
your  abhorrence  of  the  profession,  yet  I  must  say,  that  I  do  not 
like  the  idea.  I  have  been  rendered  unfit  for  it  by  my  life  up 
to  the  present.  But  I  am  permitted  to  select  any  other.' 

1  Without  wishing  to  pry  into  your  affairs,  have  you  sufficient 
to  live  upon  ?  ' 

'  Yes,  in  a  moderate  way ;  about  a  younger  brother's 
portion,  which  will  just  keep  me  in  gloves,  cigars,  and  eau  de 
cologne.' 

'  Then  take  my  advice  and  be  nothing.  The  only  difference 
I  see  between  a  gentleman  and  anybody  else,  is  that  one 
is  idle  and  the  other  works  hard.  One  is  a  useless,  and  the 
other  a  useful,  member  of  society.  Such  is  the  absurdity  of 
the  opinions  of  the  world.' 

'  Yes,  I  agree  with  you,  and  would  prefer  being  a  gentleman 
in  that  respect,  and  do  nothing,  if  they  would  admit  me  in 
every  other  ;  but  that  they  will  not  do.  I  am  in  an  unfortunate 
position.' 

'  And  will  be  until  your  feelings  become  blunted  as  mine 
have  been,'  replied  Atkinson.  '  Had  you  acquiesced  in  my 
proposal  you  would  have  done  better.  As  it  is,  I  can  be  of  no 
use  to  you  ;  nay,  without  intending  an  affront,  I  do  not  know 
if  we  ought  to  be  seen  together,  for  your  decision  not  to  fight 
your  way  is  rather  awkward,  as  I  cannot  back  one  with  my 
support  who  will  not  do  credit  to  it.  Do  not  be  angry  at 
what  I  say ;  you  are  your  own  master,  and  have  a  right  to 
decide  for  yourself.  If  you  think  yourself  not  so  wholly  lost  as 
to  be  able  eventually  to  recover  yourself  by  other  means,  I  do 
not  blame  you,  as  I  know  it  is  only  from  an  error  in  judgment, 
and  not  from  want  of  courage.' 

( At  present  I  am,  I  acknowledge,  lost,  Captain  Atkinson  : 

but  if  I  succeed  vt\  finding  my  father ' 

260 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Good  morning,  Newland,  good  morning,'  replied  he  hastily. 
*  I  see  how  it  is  ;  of  course  we  shall  be  civil  to  each  other  when 
we  meet,  for  I  wish  you  well,  but  we  must  not  be  seen  together, 
or  you  may  injure  my  character.' 

'  Injure  your  character,  Captain  Atkinson  ? ' 

4  Yes,  Mr.  Newland,  injure  my  character.  I  do  not  mean  to 
say  but  that  there  are  characters  more  respectable,  but  I  have 
a  character  which  suits  me,  and  it  has  the  merit  of  consistency. 
As  you  are  not  prepared,  as  the  Americans  say,  to  go  the  whole 
hog,  we  will  part  good  friends,  and  if  I  have  said  anything  to 
annoy  you,  I  beg  your  pardon.' 

*  Good-bye,  then,  Captain  Atkinson  ;  for  the  kindness  you 
have  shown  me  I  am  grateful.'  He  shook  my  hand,  and 
walked  out  of  the  room.  '  And  for  having  thus  broken  up  our 
acquaintance,  more  grateful  still,'  thought  I,  as  he  went  down- 
stairs. 


CHAPTER   LV 

I  cut  my  new  acquaintance,  but  his  company,  even  in  so  short  a  time, 
proves  my  ruin — Notwithstanding  I  part  with  all  my  property,  I 
retain  my  honesty. 

IN  the  meantime,  the  particulars  of  the  duel  had  found  their 
way  into  the  papers,  with  various  comments,  but  none  of 
them  very  flattering  to  me  ;  and  I  received  a  note  from  Mr. 
Masterton,  who,  deceived  by  the  representations  of  that  class 
of  people  who  cater  for  newspapers,  and  who  are  but  too  glad 
to  pull,  if  they  possibly  can,  every  one  to  their  own  level, 
strongly  animadverted  upon  my  conduct,  and  pointed  out  the 
folly  of  it ;  adding,  that  Lord  Windermear  wholly  coincided 
with  him  in  opinion,  and  had  desired  him  to  express  his  dis- 
pleasure. He  concluded  by  observing,  *  I  consider  this  to  be 
the  most  serious  false  step  which  you  have  hitherto  made. 
Because  you  have  been  a  party  to  deceiving  the  public,  and 
because  one  individual,  who  had  no  objection  to  be  intimate 
with  a  young  man  of  fashion,  station,  and  affluence,  does  not 
wish  to  continue  the  acquaintance  with  one  of  unknown  birth 
and  no  fortune,  you  consider  yourself  justified  in  taking  his 
life.  Upon  this  principle,  all  society  is  at  an  end,  all  distinc- 

261 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

tions  levelled,  and  the  rule  of  the  gladiator  will  only  be  over- 
thrown by  the  stiletto  of  the  assassin.' 

I  was  but  ill  prepared  to  receive  this  letter.  I  had  been 
deeply  thinking  upon  the  kind  offers  of  Lord  Windermear, 
and  had  felt  that  they  would  interfere  with  the  primum  mobile 
of  my  existence,  and  I  was  reflecting  by  what  means  I  could 
evade  their  kind  intentions,  and  be  at  liberty  to  follow  my  own 
inclinations,  when  this  note  arrived.  To  me  it  appeared  to  be 
the  height  of  injustice.  I  had  been  arraigned  and  found 
guilty  upon  an  ex-fiarte  statement.  I  forgot,  at  the  time,  that 
it  was  my  duty  to  have  immediately  proceeded  to  Mr. 
Masterton,  and  have  fully  explained  the  facts  of  the  case  ; 
and  that,  by  not  having  so  done,  I  left  the  natural  impression 
that  I  had  no  defence  to  offer.  I  forgot  all  this,  still  I  was 
myself  to  blame — I  only  saw  that  the  letter  in  itself  was 
unkind  and  unjust — and  my  feelings  were  those  of  resentment. 
What  right  have  Lord  Windermear  and  Mr.  Masterton  thus 
to  school  and  to  insult  me  ?  The  right  of  obligations  conferred. 
But  is  not  Lord  Windermear  under  obligations  to  me  ?  Have 
I  not  preserved  his  secret  ?  Yes ;  but  how  did  I  obtain 
possession  of  it  ?  By  so  doing,  I  was  only  making  reparation 
for  an  act  of  treachery.  Well,  then,  at  all  events,  I  have  a 
right  to  be  independent  of  them,  if  I  please — any  one  has  a 
right  to  assert  his  independence  if  he  chooses.  Their  offers 
of  service  only  would  shackle  me,  if  I  accepted  of  their  assist- 
ance. I  will  have  none  of  them.  Such  were  my  reflections  ; 
and  the  reader  must  perceive  that  I  was  influenced  by  a  state 
of  morbid  irritability — a  sense  of  abandonment  which  prostrated 
me.  I  felt  that  I  was  an  isolated  being  without  a  tie  in  the 
whole  world.  I  determined  to  spurn  the  world  as  it  had 
spurned  me.  To  Timothy  I  would  hardly  speak  a  word. 
I  lay  with  an  aching  head,  aching  from  increased  circulation. 
I  was  mad,  or  nearly  so.  I  opened  the  case  of  pistols,  and 
thought  of  suicide — reflection  alone  restrained  me.  I  could 
not  abandon  the  search  after  my  father. 

Feverish  and  impatient,  I  wished  to  walk  out,  but  I  dared 
not  meet  the  public  eye.  I  waited  till  dark,  and  then  I  sallied 
forth,  hardly  knowing  where  I  went.  I  passed  the  gaming- 
house— I  did  pass  it,  but  I  returned  and  lost  every  shilling  ; 
not,  however,  till  the  fluctuations  of  the  game  had  persuaded  me, 
that  had  I  had  more  money  to  carry  it  on,  I  should  have  won. 

262 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  went  to  bed,  but  not  to  sleep ;  I  thought  of  how  I  had 
been  caressed  and  admired,  when  I  was  supposed  to  be  rich. 
Of  what  use,  then,  was  the  money  I  possessed  ?  Little  or  none. 
I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  would  either  gain  a  fortune,  or 
lose  that  which  I  had.  The  next  morning  I  went  into  the 
city,  and  sold  out  all  the  remaining  stock.  To  Timothy  I  had 
not  communicated  my  intentions.  I  studiously  avoided 
speaking  to  him :  he  felt  hurt  at  my  conduct,  I  perceived,  but 
I  was  afraid  of  his  advice  and  expostulation. 

At  night-fall  I  returned  to  the  hell — played  with  various 
success  ;  at  one  time  was  a  winner  of  three  times  my  capital, 
and  I  ended  at  last  with  my  pockets  being  empty.  I  was 
indifferent  when  it  was  all  gone,  although  in  the  highest  state 
of  excitement  while  the  chances  were  turning  up. 

The  next  day  I  went  to  a  house-agent,  and  stated  my  wish 
to  sell  my  house,  for  I  was  resolved  to  try  fortune  to  the  last. 
The  agent  undertook  to  find  a  ready  purchaser,  and  I  begged 
an  advance,  which  he  made,  and  continued  to  make,  until  he 
had  advanced  nearly  half  the  value.  He  then  found  a 
purchaser  (himself,  as  I  believe)  at  two-thirds  of  its  value. 
I  did  not  hesitate,  I  had  lost  every  advance,  one  after  another, 
and  was  anxious  to  retrieve  my  fortune  or  be  a  beggar.  I 
signed  the  conveyance  and  received  the  balance,  fifteen  hundred 
and  fifty  pounds,  and  returned  to  the  apartments,  no  longer 
mine,  about  an  hour  before  dinner.  I  called  Timothy,  and 
ascertaining  the  amount  of  bills  due,  gave  him  fifty  pounds, 
which  left  him  about  fifteen  pounds  as  a  residue.  I  then  sat 
down  to  my  solitary  meal,  but  just  as  I  commenced  I  heard 
a  dispute  in  the  passage. 

'  What  is  that,  Timothy  ? '  cried  I,  for  I  was  nervous  to  a 
degree. 

'  It's  that  fellow  Emmanuel,  sir,  who  says  that  he  will 
come  up.' 

'  Yesh,  I  vill  go  up,  sar.' 

'  Let  him  come,  Timothy,'  replied  I.  Accordingly  Mr. 
Emmanuel  ascended.  'Well,  Emmanuel,  what  do  you  want 
with  me?'  said  I,  looking  with  contempt  at  the  miserable 
creature,  who  entered  as  before,  with  his  body  bent  double, 
and  his  hand  lying  over  his  back. 

'  I  vash  a  little  out  of  breath,  Mr.  Newland — I  vash  come 
to  say  dat  de  monish  is  very  scarce — dat  I  vill  accept  your 

263 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

offer,  and  vill  take  de  hundred  pounds  and  my  tousand  which 
I  have  lent  you.  You  too  mush  gentleman  not  to  help  a  poor 
old  man,  ven  he  ish  in  distress.' 

1  Rather  say,  Mr.  Emmanuel,  that  you  have  heard  that  I 
have  not  ten  thousand  pounds  per  annum,  and  that  you  are 
afraid  that  you  have  lost  your  money. 

'  Loshe  my  monish  ! — no — loshe  my  tousand  pound  !  Did 
you  not  say,  dat  you  would  pay  it  back  to  me,  and  give  me 
hundred  pounds  for  my  trouble  ?  dat  vash  de  last  arrangement.' 

'Yes,  but  you  refused  to  take  it,  so  it  is  not  my  fault. 
You  must  now  stick  to  the  first,  which  is  to  receive  fifteen 
hundred  pounds  when  I  come  into  my  fortune.' 

'  Your  fortune,  but  you  av  no  fortune.' 

'  I  am  afraid  not ;  and  recollect,  Mr.  Emmanuel,  that  I 
never  told  you  that  I  had.' 

1  Vill  you  pay  me  my  monish,  Mr.  Newland,  or  vill  you  go 
to  prison  ? ' 

'  You  can't  put  me  in  prison  for  an  agreement,'  replied  I. 

'  No  ;  but  I  can  prosecute  you  for  a  swindler.' 

'  No,  you  confounded  old  rascal,  you  cannot ;  try,  and  do 
your  worst,'  cried  I,  enraged  at  the  word  swindler. 

'  Veil,  Mr.  Newland,  if  you  have  not  de  ten  tousand  a  year, 
you  have  de  house  and  de  monish  ;  you  vill  not  cheat  a  poor 
man  like  me.' 

'  I  have  sold  my  house.' 

*  You  have  sold  de  house — den  you  have  neither  de  house 
or    de   monish.      Oh !   my  monish,   my  monish !     Sare,    Mr. 
Newland,  you   are  one  d — d  rascal '  ;    and    the  old  wretch's 
frame    quivered    with    emotion ;    his    hand    behind   his    back 
shaking  as  much  as  the  other  which,  in  his  rage,  he  shook  in 
my  face. 

Enraged  myself  at  being  called  such  an  opprobrious  term, 
I  opened  the  door,  twisted  him  round,  and  applying  my  foot 
to  a  nameless  part,  he  flew  out  and  fell  down  the  stairs,  at  the 
turning  of  which  he  lay,  groaning  in  pain. 

*  Mine  Got,  mine  Got,  I  am  murdered,'  cried  he.      '  Fader 
Abraham,  receive  me.'     My  rage  was  appeased,  and  I  turned 
pale  at  the  idea  of  having  killed  the  poor  wretch.     With  the 
assistance  of  Timothy,  whom  I   summoned,  we  dragged  the 
old  man  upstairs,  and  placed  him  in  a  chair,  and  found  that 
he  was  not  very  much  hurt.     A  glass  of  wine  was  given  to 

264 


'  He  flew  out  and  fell  down  the  stairs. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

him,  and  then,  as  soon  as  he  could  speak,  his  ruling  passion 
broke  out  again.  '  Mishter  Newland — ah,  Mish-ter  New-land, 
cannot  you  give  me  my  monish — cannot  you  give  me  de 
tousand  pound,  without  de  interest  ?  you  are  very  welcome  to 
de  interest.  I  only  lent  it  to  oblige  you.' 

*  How    can    you  expect    a   d — d    rascal    to  do    any    such 
thing  ?'  replied  I. 

'  D — d  rascal !  Ah  !  it  vash  I  who  vash  a  rascal,  and 
vash  a  fool  to  say  the  word.  Mishter  Newland,  you  vash  a 
gentleman,  you  vill  pay  me  my  monish.  You  vill  pay  me 
part  of  my  monish.  I  have  de  agreement  in  my  pocket,  all 
ready  to  give  up.' 

'  If  I  have  not  the  money,  how  can  I  pay  you  ?' 

*  Fader  Abraham,  if  you  have  not   de   monish — you  must 
have  some  monish  ;  den  you  will  pay  me  a  part.      How  much 
vill  you  pay  me  ?' 

*  Will    you    take    five    hundred    pounds,    and  return   the 
agreement  ?' 

1  Five  hundred  pounds — lose  half— oh  !  Mr.  Newland — it 
was  all  lent  in  monish,  not  in  goods  ;  you  will  not  make  me 
lose  so  much  as  dat  ?' 

'  I'm  not  sure  that  I  will  give  you  five  hundred  pounds  ; 
your  bond  is  not  worth  twopence,  and  you  know  it.' 

'  Your  honour,  Mishter  Newland,  is  worth  more  dan  ten 
tousand  pounds  :  but  if  you  have  not  de  monish,  den  you  shall 
pay  me  de  five  hundred  pounds  which  you  offer,  and  I  will 
give  up  de  paper.' 

'  I  never  offered  five  hundred  pounds.' 

'  Not  offer  ;  but  you  mention  de  sum,  dat  quite  enough.' 

*  Well,  then,  for  five  hundred  pounds,  you  will  give  up  the 
paper?' 

*  Yes  ;  I  vash  content  to  loshe  all  de  rest,  to  please  you.' 

I  went  to  my  desk,  and  took  out  five  hundred  pounds  in 
notes.  *  Now,  there  is  the  money,  which  you  may  put  your 
hands  on  when  you  give  up  the  agreement.'  The  old  man 
pulled  out  the  agreement  and  laid  it  on  the  table,  catching  up 
the  notes.  I  looked  at  the  paper  to  see  if  it  was  all  right, 
and  then  tore  it  up.  Emmanuel  put  the  notes,  with  a  heavy 
sigh,  into  his  inside  coat  pocket,  and  prepared  to  depart. 
*  Now,  Mr.  Emmanuel,  I  will  show  that  I  have  a  little  more 
honour  than  you  think  for.  This  is  all  the  money  I  have  in 

266 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

the  world,'  said  I,  taking  out  of  my  desk  the  remaining  thou- 
sand pounds,  '  and  half  of  it  I  give  to  you,  to  pay  you  the 
whole  money  which  you  lent  me.  Here  is  five  hundred 
pounds  more,  and  now  we  are  quits.' 

The  eyes  of  the  old  man  were  fixed  upon  me  in  astonish- 
ment, and  from  my  face  they  glanced  upon  the  notes  ;  he 
could,  to  use  a  common  expression,  neither  believe  his  eyes 
nor  his  ears.  At  last  he  took  the  money,  again  unbuttoned, 
and  pulled  out  his  pocket-book,  and  with  a  trembling  hand 
stowed  them  away  as  before. 

*  You  vash  a  very  odd  gentleman,  Mishter  Newland,'  said 
he  ;  *  you  kick  me  downstairs,  and — but  dat  is  noting.' 

'  Good-bye,  Mr.  Emmanuel,'  said  I,  '  and  let  me  eat  my 
dinner.' 


CHAPTER    LVI 

I  resolve  to  begin  the  world  again,  and  to  seek  my  fortune  in  the  next 
path — I  take  leave  of  all  my  old  friends. 

THE  Jew  retired,  and  I  commenced  my  meal,  when  the  door 
again  slowly  opened,  and  Mr  Emmanuel  crawled  up  to  me. 

4  Mishter  Newland,  I  vash  beg  your  pardon,  but  vill  you 
not  pay  me  de  interest  of  de  monish  ?' 

I  started  up  from  my  chair,  with  my  rattan  in  my  hand. 
<  Begone,  you  old  thief,'  cried  I  ;  and  hardly  were  the  words 
out  of  my  mouth,  before  Mr.  Emmanuel  travelled  out  of  the 
room,  and  I  never  saw  him  afterwards.  I  was  pleased  with 
myself  for  having  done  this  act  of  honesty,  and  for  the  first 
time  for  a  long  while  I  ate  my  dinner  with  some  zest.  After 
I  had  finished,  I  took  a  twenty  pound  note,  and  laid  it  in  my 
desk,  the  remainder  of  the  five  hundred  pounds  I  put  in  my 
pocket,  to  try  my  last  chance.  In  an  hour  I  quitted  the  hell 
penniless.  When  I  returned  home  I  had  composed  myself  a 
little  after  the  dreadful  excitement  which  I  had  been  under. 
I  felt  a  calm,  and  a  degree  of  negative  happiness.  I  knew 
my  fate — there  was  no  more  suspense.  I  sat  down  to  reflect 
upon  what  I  should  do.  I  was  to  commence  the  world  again 
— to  sink  down  at  once  into  obscurity — into  poverty — and  I 
felt  happy.  I  had  severed  the  link  between  myself  and  my 

267 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

former  condition — I  was  again  a  beggar,  but  I  was  independ- 
ent— and  I  resolved  so  to  be.  I  spoke  kindly  to  Timothy, 
went  to  bed,  and  having  arranged  in  my  own  mind  how  I 
should  act,  I  fell  sound  asleep. 

I  never  slept  better,  or  awoke  more  refreshed.  The  next 
morning  I  packed  up  my  portmanteau,  taking  with  me  only 
the  most  necessary  articles  ;  all  the  details  of  the  toilet, 
further  than  cleanliness  was  concerned,  I  abjured.  When 
Timothy  came  in,  I  told  him  that  I  was  going  down  to  Lady 
de  Clare's,  which  I  intended  to  do.  Poor  Timothy  was  over- 
joyed at  the  change  in  my  manner,  little  thinking  that  he  was 
so  soon  to  lose  me — for,  reader,  I  had  made  up  my  mind  that 
I  would  try  my  fortunes  alone  ;  and,  painful  as  I  felt  would  be 
the  parting  with  so  valued  a  friend,  I  was  determined  that  I 
would  no  longer  have  even  his  assistance  or  company.  I  was 
determined  to  forget  all  that  had  passed,  and  commence  the 
world  anew.  I  sat  down  while  Timothy  went  out  to  take  a 
place  in  the  Richmond  coach,  and  wrote  to  him  the  following 
letter  : — 

'  MY  DEAR  TIMOTHY — Do  not  think  that  I  undervalue 
your  friendship,  or  shall  ever  forget  your  regard  for  me,  when 
I  tell  you  that  we  shall  probably  never  meet  again.  Should 
fortune  favour  me,  I  trust  we  shall — but  of  that  there  is  little 
prospect.  I  have  lost  almost  everything  :  my  money  is  all 
gone,  my  house  is  sold,  and  all  is  gambled  away.  I  leave 
you,  with  only  my  clothes  in  my  portmanteau  and  twenty 
pounds.  For  yourself,  there  is  the  furniture,  which  you  must 
sell,  as  well  as  every  other  article  left  behind.  It  is  all  yours, 
and  I  hope  you  will  find  means  to  establish  yourself  in  some 
way.  God  bless  you — and  believe  me  always  and  gratefully 
yours, 

'  JAPHET  NEWLAND.' 

This  letter  I  reserved  to  put  in  the  post  when  I  quitted 
Richmond.  My  next  letter  was  to  Mr.  Masterton. 

<  SIR — Your  note  I  received,  and  I  am  afraid  that,  un- 
wittingly, you  have  been  the  occasion  of  my  present  condition. 
That  I  did  not  deserve  the  language  addressed  to  me,  you 
may  satisfy  yourself  by  applying  to  Mr.  Harcourt.  Driven  to 
desperation,  I  have  lost  all  I  had  in  the  world,  by  adding 

268 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

gaming  to  my  many  follies.  I  now  am  about  to  seek  my 
fortune,  and  prosecute  my  search  after  my  father.  You  will, 
therefore,  return  my  most  sincere  acknowledgments  to  Lord 
Windermear  for  his  kind  offers  and  intentions,  and  assure 
him  that  my  feelings  towards  him  will  always  be  those  of 
gratitude  and  respect.  For  yourself,  accept  my  warmest 
thanks  for  the  friendly  advice  and  kind  interest  which  you 
have  shown  in  my  welfare,  and  believe  me,  when  I  say,  that 
my  earnest  prayers  shall  be  offered  up  for  your  happiness.  If 
you  can,  in  any  way,  assist  my  poor  friend  Timothy,  who 
will,  I  have  no  doubt,  call  upon  you  in  his  distress,  you  will 
confer  an  additional  favour  on, 

1  Yours,  ever  gratefully, 

'  JAPHET  NEWLAND.' 

I  sealed  this  letter,  and  when  Timothy  returned,  I  told 
him  that  I  wished  him,  after  my  departure,  to  take  it  to  Mr. 
Masterton's,  and  not  wait  for  an  answer.  I  then,  as  I  had  an 
hour  to  spare  before  the  coach  started,  entered  into  a  con- 
versation with  Timothy.  I  pointed  out  to  him  the  unfortunate 
condition  in  which  I  found  myself,  and  my  determination  to 
quit  the  metropolis. 

Timothy  agreed  with  me.  '  I  have  seen  you  so  unhappy 
of  late — I  may  say,  so  miserable — that  I  have  neither  eaten 
nor  slept.  Indeed,  Japhet,  I  have  lain  in  bed  and  wept,  for 
my  happiness  depends  upon  yours.  Go  where  you  will,  I  am 
ready  to  follow  and  to  serve  you,  and  as  long  as  I  see  you 
comfortable,  I  care  for  nothing  else.' 

These  words  of  Timothy  almost  shook  my  resolution,  and 
I  was  near  telling  him  all ;  but  when  I  recollected,  I  refrained. 
'My  dear  Timothy,'  said  I,  'in  this  world  we  must  expect  to 
meet  with  a  checkered  existence  ;  we  may  laugh  at  one  time, 
but  we  must  cry  at  others.  I  owe  my  life  to  you,  and  I  never 
shall  forget  you,  wherever  I  may  be.' 

'  No,'  replied  Timothy,  '  you  are  not  likely  to  forget  one 
who  is  hardly  an  hour  out  of  your  sight.' 

'  Very  true,  Timothy  ;  but  circumstances  may  occur  which 
may  separate  us.' 

'  I  cannot  imagine  such  circumstances,  nor  do  I  believe, 
that  bad  as  things  may  turn  out,  that  they  will  ever  be  so  bad 
as  that.  You  have  your  money  and  your  house ;  if  you  leave 

269 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

London,  you  will  be  able  to  add  to  your  income  by  letting 
your  own  apartments  furnished,  so  we  never  shall  want ;  and 
we  may  be  very  happy  running  about  the  world,  seeking  what 
we  wish  to  find.3 

My  heart  smote  me  when  Timothy  said  this,  for  I  felt,  by 
his  devotion  and  fidelity,  he  had  almost  the  same  claim  to  the 
property  I  possessed  as  myself.  He  had  been  my  partner, 
playing  the  inferior  game,  for  the  mutual  benefit.  '  But  the 
time  may  come,  Timothy,  when  we  may  find  ourselves  without 
money,  as  we  were  when  we  first  commenced  our  career,  and 
shared  three-pence  halfpenny  each,  by  selling  the  old  woman 
the  embrocation.' 

*  Well,  sir,  and  let  it  come.      I  should  be  sorry  for  you,  but 
not  for  myself,  for  then  Tim  would  be  of  more  importance, 
and  more  useful,  than  as  valet  with  little  or  nothing  to  do.' 

I  mentally  exclaimed,  *  I  have,  I  think  I  have,  been  a  fool, 
a  great  fool,  but  the  die  is  cast.  I  will  sow  in  sorrow,  and 
may  I  reap  a  harvest  in  joy.  I  feel,'  thought  I  (and  I  did 
feel),  '  I  feel  a  delightful  conviction,  that  we  shall  meet  again, 
and  all  this  misery  of  parting  will  be  but  a  subject  of  future 
garrulity.'  '  Yes,  Tim,'  said  I,  in  a  loud  voice,  *  all  is  right.' 

'All's  right,  sir;  I  never  thought  anything  was  wrong, 
except  your  annoyance  at  people  not  paying  you  the  attention 
which  they  used  to  do,  when  they  supposed  you  a  man  of 
fortune.' 

*  Very  true  ;  and  Tim,  recollect  that  if  Mr.  Masterton  speaks 
to  you  about  me,  which  he  may  after  I  am  gone  to  Richmond, 
you  tell   him   that  before    I    left,    I    paid   that   old   scoundrel 
Emmanuel  every  farthing  that  I  had  borrowed  of  him,  and 
you  know  (and  in  fact  so  does    Mr.   Masterton)  how  it  was 
borrowed.' 

*  Well,  sir,  I  will,  if  he  does  talk  to  me,  but  he  seldom  says 
much  to  me.' 

'  But  he  may,  perhaps,  Tim  ;  and  I  wish  him  to  know  that 
I  have  paid  every  debt  I  owe  in  the  world.' 

*  One  would  think  that  you  were  going  to  the  East  Indies, 
instead  of  to  Richmond,  by  the  way  you  talk.' 

'  No,  Tim  ;  I  was  offered  a  situation  in  the  East  Indies, 
and  I  refused  it ;  but  Mr.  Masterton  and  I  have  not  been  on 
good  terms  lately,  and  I  wish  him  to  know  that  I  am  out  of 
debt.  You  know,  for  I  told  you  all  that  passed  between 

270 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Emmanuel  and  myself,  how  he  accepted  five  hundred  pounds, 
and  I  paid  him  the  thousand ;  and  I  wish  Mr.  Masterton 
should  know  it  too,  and  he  will  then  be  better  pleased  with 
me.' 

'  Never  fear,  sir,5  said  Tim,  '  I  can  tell  the  whole  story  with 
flourishes.3 

'  No,  Tim,  nothing  but  the  truth  ;  but  it  is  time  I  should 
go.  Farewell,  my  dear  fellow.  May  God  bless  you  and 
preserve  you.3  And,  overcome  by  my  feelings,  I  dropped  my 
face  on  Timothy's  shoulder,  and  wept. 

'  What  is  the  matter  ?  What  do  you  mean,  Japhet  ?  Mr. 
Newland — pray,  sir,  what  is  the  matter?' 

'Timothy — it  is  nothing,3  replied  I,  recovering  myself,  'but 
I  have  been  ill ;  nervous  lately,  as  you  well  know,  and  even 
leaving  the  last  and  only  friend  I  have,  I  may  say  for  a  few 
days,  annoys  and  overcomes  me.3 

{  Oh  !  sir — dear  Japhet,  do  let  us  leave  this  house,  and  sell 
your  furniture,  and  be  off.3 

1 1  mean  that  it  shall  be  so,  Tim.  God  bless  you,  and 
farewell.5  I  went  downstairs,  the  hackney-coach  was  at  the 
door.  Timothy  put  in  my  portmanteau,  and  mounted  the  box. 
I  wept  bitterly.  My  readers  may  despise  me,  but  they  ought 
not ;  let  them  be  in  my  situation,  and  feel  that  they  have  one 
sincere  faithful  friend,  and  then  they  will  know  the  bitterness 
of  parting.  I  recovered  myself  before  I  arrived  at  the  coach, 
and  shaking  hands  with  Timothy,  I  lost  sight  of  him  ;  for  how 
long,  the  reader  will  find  out  in  the  sequel  of  my  adventures. 

I  arrived  at  Lady  de  Clare's,  and  hardly  need  say  that  I 
was  well  received.  They  expressed  their  delight  at  my  so 
soon  coming  again,  and  made  a  hundred  inquiries — but  I  was 
unhappy  and  melancholy,  not  at  my  prospects,  for  in  my 
infatuation  I  rejoiced  at  my  anticipated  beggary — but  I  wished 
to  communicate  with  Fleta,  for  so  I  still  call  her.  Fleta  had 
known  my  history,  for  she  had  been  present  when  I  had 
related  it  to  her  mother,  up  to  the  time  that  I  arrived  in 
London  ;  further  than  that  she  knew  little.  I  was  determined 
that  before  I  quitted  she  should  know  all.  I  dared  not  trust 
the  last  part  to  her  when  I  was  present,  but  I  resolved  that  I 
would  do  it  in  writing. 

Lady  de  Clare  made  no  difficulty  whatever  of  leaving  me 
with  Fleta.  She  was  now  a  beautiful  creature,  of  between 

271 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

fifteen  and  sixteen,  bursting  into  womanhood,  and  lovely  as 
the  bud  of  the  moss-rose  ;  and  she  was  precocious  beyond  her 
years  in  intellect.  I  stayed  there  three  days,  and  had  frequent 
opportunities  of  conversing  with  her  ;  I  told  her  that  I  wished 
her  to  be  acquainted  with  my  whole  life,  and  interrogated  her 
as  to  what  she  knew  :  I  carefully  filled  up  the  chasms,  until  I 
brought  it  down  to  the  time  at  which  I  placed  her  in  the  arms 
of  her  mother.  'And  now,  Fleta,'  said  I,  'you  have  much 
more  to  learn — you  will  learn  that  much  at  my  departure.  I 
have  dedicated  hours  every  night  in  writing  it  out ;  and,  as 
you  will  find,  have  analysed  my  feelings,  and  have  pointed  out 
to  you  where  I  have  been  wrong.  I  have  done  it  for  my 
amusement,  as  it  may  be  of  service  even  to  a  female.5 

On  the  third  day  I  took  my  leave,  and  requesting  the  pony- 
chaise  of  Lady  de  Clare,  to  take  me  over  to ,  that  I  might 

catch  the  first  coach  that  went  westward — for  I  did  not  care 
which  —  I  put  into  Fleta's  hands  the  packet  which  I  had 
written,  containing  all  that  had  passed,  and  I  bid  her  farewell. 

'  Lady  de  Clare,  may  you  be  happy,'  said  I.  '  Fleta — 
Cecilia,  I  should  say,  may  God  bless  and  preserve  you,  and 
sometimes  think  of  your  sincere  friend,  Japhet  Newland.' 

'Really,  Mr.  Newland,'  said  Lady  de  Clare,  'one  would 
think  we  were  never  to  see  you  again.' 

'  I  hope  that  will  not  be  the  case,  Lady  de  Clare,  for  I 
know  nobody  to  whom  I  am  more  devoted.' 

'  Then,  sir,  recollect  we  are  to  see  you  very  soon.' 

I  pressed  her  ladyship's  hand,  and  left  the  house.  Thus 
did  I  commence  my  second  pilgrimage. 


CHAPTER    LVII 

My  new  career  is  not  very  prosperous  at  its  commencement — I  am  robbed, 
and  accused  of  being  a  robber — I  bind  up  wounds,  and  am  accused 
of  having  inflicted  them — I  get  into  a  horse- pond,  and  out  of  it  into 
gaol. 

I  HAD  proceeded  half  a  mile  from  the  house,  when  I  desired 
the  servant  to  turn  into  a  cross-road  so  as  to  gain  Brentford  ; 
and,  so  soon  as  I  arrived,  the  distance  being  only  four  miles, 

272 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  ordered  him  to  stop  at  a  public-house,  saying  that  I  would 
wait  till  the  coach  should  pass  by.  I  then  gave  him  half-a- 
crown,  and  ordered  him  to  go  home.  I  went  into  the  inn 
with  my  portmanteau,  and  was  shown  into  a  small  back 
parlour ;  there  I  remained  about  half  an  hour  reflecting  upon 
the  best  plan  that  I  could  adopt. 

Leaving  the  ale  that  I  had  called  for  untasted,  I  paid  for 
it,  and,  with  the  portmanteau  on  my  shoulder,  I  walked  away 
until  I  arrived  at  an  old  clothes'  shop.  I  told  the  Jew  who 
kept  it,  that  I  required  some  clothes,  and  also  wanted  to  dis- 
pose of  my  own  portmanteau  and  all  my  effects.  I  had  a  great 
rogue  to  deal  with ;  but  after  much  chaffering,  for  I  now  felt 
the  value  of  money,  I  purchased  from  him  two  pair  of  corduroy 
trousers,  two  waistcoats,  four  common  shirts,  four  pairs  of 
stockings,  a  smock-frock,  a  pair  of  high-lows,  and  a  common 
hat.  For  these  I  gave  up  all  my  portmanteau,  with  the 
exception  of  six  silk  handkerchiefs,  and  received  fifty  shillings, 
when  I  ought  to  have  received,  at  least,  ten  pounds  ;  but  I 
could  not  well  help  myself,  and  I  submitted  to  the  extortion. 
I  dressed  myself  in  my  more  humble  garments,  securing  my 
money  in  the  pocket  of  my  trousers  unobserved  by  the  Jew, 
made  up  a  bundle  of  the  rest,  and  procured  a  stick  from  the 
Jew  to  carry  it  on,  however  not  without  paying  him  threepence 
for  it,  he  observing  that  the  stick  'wash  not  in  de  bargain.' 
Thus  attired,  I  had  the  appearance  of  a  countryman  well  to 
do,  and  I  set  off  through  the  long  dirty  main  street  of  Brent- 
ford, quite  undecided  and  indifferent  as  to  the  direction  I 
should  take.  I  walked  about  a  mile,  when  I  thought  that  it 
was  better  to  come  to  some  decision  previous  to  my  going 
farther ;  and  perceiving  a  bench  in  front  of  a  public-house,  I 
went  to  it  and  sat  down.  I  looked  around,  and  it  immediately 
came  to  my  recollection  that  I  was  sitting  on  the  very  bench 
on  which  Timothy  and  I  had  stopped  to  eat  our  meal  of  pork, 
at  our  first  outset  upon  our  travels.  Yes,  it  was  the  very 
same !  Here  sat  I,  and  there  sat  Timothy,  two  heedless  boys, 
with  the  paper  containing  the  meat,  the  loaf  of  bread,  and  the 
pot  of  beer  between  us.  Poor  Timothy  !  I  conjured  up  his 
unhappiness  when  he  had  received  my  note  acquainting  him 
with  our  future  separation.  I  remembered  his  fidelity,  his 
courage  in  defence,  and  his  preservation  of  my  life  in  Ireland, 
and  a  tear  or  two  coursed  down  my  cheek. 
T  273 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  remained  some  time  in  a  deep  reverie,  during  which  the 
various  circumstances  and  adventures  of  my  life  passed  in  a 
rapid  panorama  before  me.  I  felt  that  I  had  little  to  plead  in 
my  own  favour,  much  to  condemn — that  I  had  passed  a  life 
of  fraud  and  deceit.  I  also  could  not  forget  that  when  I  had 
returned  to  honesty,  I  had  been  scouted  by  the  world.  '  And 
here  I  am,'  thought  I,  '  once  more  with  the  world  before  me  ; 
and  it  is  just  that  I  should  commence  again,  for  I  started  in  a 
wrong  path.  At  least,  now  I  can  satisfactorily  assert  that  I 
am  deceiving  nobody,  and  can  deservedly  receive  no  con- 
tumely. I  am  Japhet  Newland,  and  not  in  disguise.'  I  felt 
happy  with  this  reflection,  and  made  a  determination,  what- 
ever my  future  lot  might  be,  that,  at  least,  I  would  pursue  the 
path  of  honesty.  I  then  began  to  reflect  upon  another  point, 
which  was,  whither  I  should  bend  my  steps,  and  what  I 
should  do  to  gain  my  livelihood. 

Alas  !  that  was  a  subject  of  no  little  difficulty  to  me.  A 
person  who  has  been  brought  up  to  a  profession  naturally 
reverts  to  that  profession — but  to  what  had  I  been  brought 
up  ?  As  an  apothecary — true  ;  but  I  well  knew  the  difficulty 
of  obtaining  employment  in  what  is  termed  a  liberal  profession, 
without  interest  or  recommendation  ;  neither  did  I  wish  for 
close  confinement,  as  the  very  idea  was  irksome.  As  a 
mountebank,  a  juggler,  a  quack  doctor — I  spurned  the  very 
idea.  It  was  a  system  of  fraud  and  deceit.  What  then  could 
I  do  ?  I  could  not  dig,  to  beg  I  was  ashamed.  I  must  trust 
to  the  chapter  of  accidents,  and  considering  how  helpless  I 
was,  such  trust  was  but  a  broken  reed.  At  all  events,  I  had 
a  sufficient  sum  of  money,  upwards  of  twenty  pounds,  to  exist 
upon  with  economy  for  some  time. 

I  was  interrupted  by  a  voice  calling  out,  '  Hilloa  !  my  lad, 
come  and  hold  this  horse  a  moment.'  I  looked  up  and 
perceived  a  person  on  horseback  looking  at  me.  *  Do  you 
hear,  or  are  you  stupid  ? '  cried  the  man.  My  first  feeling 
was  to  knock  him  down  for  his  impertinence,  but  my  bundle 
lying  beside,  reminded  me  of  my  situation  and  appearance,  and 
I  rose  and  walked  towards  the  horse.  The  gentleman,  for 
such  he  was  in  appearance,  dismounted,  and  throwing  the 
rein  on  the  horse's  neck,  told  me  to  stand  by  him  for  half  a 
minute.  He  went  into  a  respectable -looking  house  opposite 
the  inn,  and  remained  nearly  half  an  hour,  during  which  I 

274 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

was  becoming  very  impatient,  and  kept  an  anxious  eye  upon 
my  bundle,  which  lay  on  the  seat.  At  last  he  came  out,  and 
mounting  his  horse  looked  in  my  face  with  some  degree  of 
surprise.  '  Why,  what  are  you  ? '  said  he,  as  he  pulled  out  a 
sixpence,  and  tendered  it  to  me. 

I  was  again  nearly  forgetting  myself,  affronted  at  the  idea 
of  sixpence  being  offered  to  me ;  but  I  recovered  myself, 
saying,  as  I  took  it,  *  A  poor  labouring  man,  sir.' 

'  What,  with  those  hands  ? '  said  he,  looking  at  them  as  I 
took  the  money ;  and  then  looking  at  my  face,  he  continued, 
'  I  think  we  have  met  before,  my  lad — I  cannot  be  sure  ;  you 
know  best — I  am  a  Bow  Street  magistrate.3 

In  a  moment  I  remembered  that  he  was  the  very 
magistrate  before  whom  I  had  twice  made  my  appearance.  I 
coloured  deeply,  and  made  no  reply. 

'Well,  my  lad,  I'm  not  on  my  bench  now,  and  this 
sixpence  you  have  earned  honestly.  I  trust  you  will  continue 
in  the  right  path.  Be  careful — I  have  sharp  eyes.'  So 
saying,  he  rode  off. 

I  never  felt  more  mortified.  It  was  evident  that  he 
considered  me  as  one  who  was  acting  a  part  for  unworthy 
purposes  ;  perhaps  one  of  the  swell  mob  or  a  flash  pickpocket 
rusticating  until  some  hue  and  cry  was  over.  'Well,  well,' 
thought  I,  as  I  took  up  a  lump  of  dirt  and  rubbed  over  my 
then  white  hands,  '  it  is  my  fate  to  be  believed  when  I 
deceive,  and  to  be  mistrusted  when  I  am  acting  honestly '  ; 
and  I  returned  to  the  bench  for  my  bundle,  which — was  gone. 
I  stared  with  astonishment.  'Is  it  possible?'  thought  I. 
*  How  dishonest  people  are  !  Well,  I  will  not  carry  another 
for  the  present.  They  might  as  well  have  left  me  my  stick.' 
So  thinking,  and  without  any  great  degree  of  annoyance  at  the 
loss,  I  returned  from  the  bench  and  walked  away,  I  knew  not 
whither.  It  was  now  getting  dark,  but  I  quite  forgot  that  it 
was  necessary  to  look  out  for  a  lodging  ;  the  fact  is,  that  I 
had  been  completely  upset  by  the  observations  of  the 
magistrate,  and  the  theft  of  my  bundle  ;  and,  in  a  sort  of 
brown  study,  from  which  I  was  occasionally  recalled  for  a 
moment  by  stumbling  over  various  obstructions,  I  continued 
my  walk  on  the  pathway  until  I  was  two  or  three  miles  away 
from  Brentford.  I  was  within  a  mile  of  Hounslow,  when  I 
was  roused  by  the  groans  of  some  person,  and  it  being  now 

275 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

dark,  I  looked  round,  trying  to  catch  by  the  ear  the  direction 
in  which  to  offer  my  assistance.  They  proceeded  from  the 
other  side  of  a  hedge,  and  I  crawled  through,  where  I  found  a 
man  lying  on  the  ground,  covered  with  blood  about  the  head, 
and  breathing  heavily.  I  untied  his  neckcloth,  and,  as  well 
as  I  could,  examined  his  condition.  I  bound  his  handkerchief 
round  his  head,  and  perceiving  that  the  position  in  which  he 
was  lying  was  very  unfavourable,  his  head  and  shoulders 
being  much  lower  than  his  body,  I  was  dragging  the  body 
round  so  as  to  raise  those  parts,  when  I  heard  footsteps  and 
voices.  Shortly  after,  four  people  burst  through  the  hedge 
and  surrounded  me. 

'  That  is  him,  I'll  swear  to  it,'  cried  an  immense  stout  man, 
seizing  me ;  *  that  is  the  other  fellow  who  attacked  me,  and 
ran  away.  He  has  come  to  get  off  his  accomplice,  and  now 
we've  just  nicked  them  both.' 

*  You  are  very  much  mistaken,'  replied  I,  '  and  you  have 
no  need  to  hold  me  so  tight.  I  heard  the  man  groan,  and  I 
came  to  his  assistance.' 

'  That  gammon  won't  do,'  replied  one  of  them,  who  was  a 
constable ;  '  you'll  come  along  with  us,  and  we  may  as  well 
put  on  the  darbies]  continued  he,  producing  a  pair  of 
handcuffs. 

Indignant  at  the  insult,  I  suddenly  broke  from  him  who 
held  me,  and  darting  at  the  constable,  knocked  him  down, 
and  then  took  to  my  heels  across  the  ploughed  field.  The 
whole  four  pursued,  but  I  rather  gained  upon  them,  and  was 
in  hopes  to  make  my  escape.  I  ran  for  a  gap  I  perceived  in 
the  hedge,  and  sprang  over  it,  without  minding  the  old  adage 
of  '  Look  before  you  leap ' ;  for,  when  on  the  other  side, 
I  found  myself  in  a  deep  and  stagnant  pit  of  water  and  mud. 
I  sank  over  head,  and  with  difficulty  extricated  myself  from 
the  mud  at  the  bottom,  and  when  at  the  surface  I  was  equally 
embarrassed  with  the  weeds  at  the  top,  among  which  I 
floundered.  In  the  meantime  my  pursuers,  warned  by  the 
loud  splash,  had  paused  when  they  came  to  the  hedge,  and 
perceiving  my  situation,  were  at  the  brink  of  the  pit  watching 
for  my  coming  out.  All  resistance  was  useless.  I  was 
numbed  with  cold  and  exhausted  by  my  struggles,  and  when 
I  gained  the  bank  I  surrendered  at  discretion. 

276 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER    LVIII 

Worse  and  worse — If  out  of  gaol,  it  will  be  to  go  out  of  the  world — I  am 
resolved  to  take  my  secret  with  me. 

THE  handcuffs  were  now  put  on  without  resistance  on  my  part, 
and  I  was  led  away  to  Hounslow  by  the  two  constables,  while 
the  others  returned  to  secure  the  wounded  man.  On  my 
arrival  I  was  thrust  into  the  clink,  or  lock-up  house,  as  the 
magistrates  would  not  meet  that  evening,  and  there  I  was  left  to 
my  reflections.  Previously,  however,  to  this,  I  was  searched,  and 
my  money,  amounting,  as  I  before  stated,  to  upwards  of  twenty 
pounds,  taken  from  me  by  the  constables  ;  and  what  I  had 
quite  forgotten,  a  diamond  solitaire  ring,  which  I  had  intended 
to  have  left  with  my  other  bijouterie  for  Timothy,  but  in  my 
hurry,  when  I  left  London,  I  had  allowed  to  remain  upon  my 
finger.  The  gaol  was  a  square  building,  with  two  unglazed 
windows  secured  with  thick  iron  bars,  and  the  rain  having 
beat  in,  it  was  more  Jike  a  pound  for  cattle,  for  it  was  not 
even  paved,  and  the  ground  was  three  or  four  inches  deep  in 
mud.  There  was  no  seat  in  it,  and  there  I  was  the  whole  of 
the  night  walking  up  and  down  shivering  in  my  wet  clothes,  in 
a  state  of  mind  bordering  on  insanity.  Reflect  upon  what  was 
likely  to  happen,  I  could  not.  I  only  ran  over  the  past.  I 
remembered  what  I  had  been,  and  felt  cruelly  the  situation  I 
was  in.  Had  I  deserved  it  ?  I  thought  not.  *  O  father 
— father  ! '  exclaimed  I,  bitterly,  '  see  to  what  your  son  is 
brought — handcuffed  as  a  felon  !  God  have  mercy  on  my 
brain,  for  I  feel  that  it  is  wandering.  Father,  father — alas,  I 
have  none  ! — had  you  left  me  at  the  asylum,  without  any  clue, 
or  hopes  of  a  clue,  to  my  hereafter  being  reclaimed,  it  would 
have  been  a  kindness  ;  I  should  then  have  been  happy  and 
contented  in  some  obscure  situation  ;  but  you  raised  hopes 
only  to  prostrate  them — and  imaginings  which  have  led  to  my 
destruction.  Sacred  is  the  duty  of  a  parent,  and  heavy  must 
be  the  account  of  those  who  desert  their  children,  and  are 
required  by  Heaven  to  render  up  an  account  of  the  important 
trust.  Couldst  thou,  O  father,  but  now  behold  thy  son ! 

278 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

God  Almighty  ! but  I  will  not  curse  you,  father  !  No, 

no '  and  I  burst  into  tears,  as  I  leant  against  the  damp 

walls  of  the  prison. 

The  day  at  last  broke,  and  the  sun  rose,  and  poured  his 
beaming  rays  through  the  barred  windows.  I  looked  at 
myself,  and  was  shocked  at  my  appearance  :  my  smock-frock 
was  covered  with  black  mud,  my  clothes  were  equally 
disfigured.  I  had  lost  my  hat  when  in  the  water,  and  I  felt 
the  dry  mud  cracking  on  my  cheeks.  I  put  my  hands  up  to 
my  head,  and  pulled  a  quantity  of  duck-weed  out  of  my  matted 
and  tangled  hair.  I  thought  of  the  appearance  I  should  make 
when  summoned  before  the  magistrates,  and  how  much  it 
would  go  against  me.  '  Good  God  ! '  thought  I,  '  who,  of  all 
the  world  of  fashion — who,  of  all  those  who  once  caught  my 
salutation  so  eagerly — who,  of  all  those  worldly-minded  girls, 
who  smiled  upon  me  but  one  short  twelvemonth,  since  would 
imagine,  or  believe,  that  Japhet  Newland  could  ever  have 
sunk  so  low — and  how  has  he  so  fallen  ?  Alas  !  because  he 
would  be  honest,  and  had  strength  of  mind  enough  to  adhere 
to  his  resolution.  Well,  well,  God's  will  be  done  ;  I  care  not 
for  life  ;  but  still  an  ignominious  death — to  go  out  of  the 
world  like  a  dog,  and  that  too  without  finding  out  who  is  my 
father.'  And  I  put  my  fettered  hands  up  and  pressed  my 
burning  brow,  and  remained  in  a  sort  of  apathetic  sullen  mood, 
until  I  was  startled  by  the  opening  of  the  door,  and  the 
appearance  of  the  constables.  They  led  me  out  among  the 
crowd,  through  which,  with  difficulty,  they  could  force  their 
way ;  and  followed  by  the  majority  of  the  population  of 
Hounslow,  who  made  their  complimentary  remarks  upon  the 
footpad,  I  was  brought  before  the  magistrates.  The  large 
stout  man  was  then  called  up  to  give  his  evidence,  and  deposed 
as  follows  : — 

'  That  he  was  walking  to  Hounslow  from  Brentford, 
whither  he  had  been  to  purchase  some  clothes,  when  he  was 
accosted  by  two  fellows  in  smock-frocks,  one  of  whom  carried 
a  bundle  in  his  left  hand.  They  asked  him  what  o'clock  it 
was  ;  and  he  took  out  his  watch  to  tell  them,  when  he  received 
a  blow  from  the  one  with  the  bundle  (this  one,  sir,  said  he, 
pointing  to  me)  on  the  back  of  his  head  ;  at  the  same  time 
the  other  (the  wounded  man  who  was  now  in  custody)  snatched 
his  watch.  That  at  the  time  he  had  purchased  his  clothes  at 

279 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Brentford,  he  had  also  bought  a  bag  of  shot,  fourteen  pounds 
weight,  which  he  had,  for  the  convenience  of  carrying,  tied  up 
with  the  clothes  in  the  bundle  ;  and  perceiving  that  he  was 
about  to  be  robbed,  he  had  swung  his  bundle  round  his  head, 
and  with  the  weight  of  the  shot,  had  knocked  down  the  man 
who  had  snatched  at  his  watch.  He  then  turned  to  the  other 
(me),  who  backed  from  him,  and  struck  at  him  with  his  stick. 
(The  stick  was  here  produced  ;  and  when  I  cast  my  eye  on  it, 
I  was  horrified  to  perceive  that  it  was  the  very  stick  which  I 
had  bought  of  the  Jew  for  threepence,  to  carry  my  bundle  on.) 
He  had  closed  in  with  me,  and  was  wresting  the  stick  out  of 
my  hand,  when  the  other  man,  who  had  recovered  his  legs, 
again  attacked  him  with  another  stick.  In  the  scuffle  he 
had  obtained  my  stick,  and  I  had  wrested  from  him  his 
bundle,  with  which,  as  soon  as  he  had  knocked  down  my 
partner,  I  ran  off.  That  he  beat  my  partner  until  he  was 
insensible,  and  then  found  that  I  had  left  my  own  bundle, 
which  in  the  affray  I  had  thrown  on  one  side.  He  then  made 
the  best  of  his  way  to  Hounslow  to  give  the  information.3 
His  return  and  finding  me  with  the  other  man  is  already  known 
to  the  readers. 

The  next  evidence  who  came  forward  was  the  Jew,  from 
whom  I  had  bought  the  clothes  and  sold  my  own.  He 
narrated  all  that  had  occurred,  and  swore  to  the  clothes  in  the 
bundle  left  by  the  footpad,  and  to  the  stick  which  he  had  sold 
to  me.  The  constable  then  produced  the  money  found  about 
my  person  and  the  diamond  solitaire  ring,  stating  my  attempt 
to  escape  when  I  was  seized.  The  magistrate  then  asked  me 
whether  I  had  anything  to  say  in  my  defence,  cautioning  me 
not  to  commit  myself. 

I  replied,  that  I  was  innocent ;  that  it  was  true  that  I  had 
sold  my  own  clothes,  and  had  purchased  those  of  the  Jew,  as 
well  as  the  stick :  that  I  had  been  asked  to  hold  the  horse  of  a 
gentleman  when  sitting  on  a  bench  opposite  a  public-house, 
and  that  some  one  had  stolen  my  bundle  and  my  stick. 
That  I  had  walked  on  towards  Hounslow,  and,  in  assisting  a 
fellow -creature,  whom  I  certainly  had  considered  as  having 
been  attacked  by  others,  I  had  merely  yielded  to  the  common 
feelings  of  humanity — that  I  was  seized  when  performing  that 
duty,  and  should  willingly  have  accompanied  them  to  the 
magistrate's,  had  not  they  attempted  to  put  on  handcuffs,  at 

280 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

which  my  feelings  were  roused,  and  I  knocked  the  constable 
down,  and  made  my  attempt  to  escape. 

'  Certainly,  a  very  ingenious  defence,'  observed  one  of  the 

magistrates  ;    '  pray  where '      At    this    moment  the  door 

opened,  and  in  came  the  very  gentleman,  the  magistrate  at 
Bow  Street,  whose  horse  I  had  held.  '  Good  morning,  Mr. 
Norman ;  you  have  just  come  in  time  to  render  us  your 
assistance.  We  have  a  very  deep  hand  to  deal  with  here,  or 
else  a  very  injured  person,  I  cannot  tell  which.  Do  us  the 
favour  to  look  over  these  informations  and  the  defence  of  the 
prisoner,  previous  to  our  asking  him  any  more  questions.' 

The  Bow  Street  magistrate  complied,  and  then  turned  to 
me,  but  I  was  so  disguised  with  mud  that  he  could  not  recog- 
nise me. 

'  You  are  the  gentleman,  sir,  who  asked  me  to  hold  your 
horse,'  said  I.  '  I  call  you  to  witness,  that  that  part  of  my 
assertion  is  true.3 

'  I  do  now  recollect  that  you  are  the  person,'  replied  he, 
'and  you  may  recollect  the  observation  I  made,  relative 
to  your  hands,  when  you  stated  that  you  were  a  poor  country- 
man.' 

'  I  do,  sir,  perfectly,'  replied  I. 

'  Perhaps  then  you  will  inform  us  by  what  means  a 
diamond  ring  and  twenty  pounds  in  money  came  into  your 
possession  ?  ' 

'  Honestly,  sir,'  replied  I. 

'  Will  you  state,  as  you  are  a  poor  countryman,  with  whom 
you  worked  last — what  parish  you  belong  to — and  whom  you 
can  bring  forward  in  proof  of  good  character  ? ' 

'  I  certainly  shall  not  answer  those  questions,'  replied  I  : 
'  if  I  chose,  I  might  so  do,  and  satisfactorily.' 

'  What  is  your  name  ? ' 

'  I  cannot  answer  that  question  either,  sir,'  replied  I. 

'  I  told  you  yesterday  that  we  had  met  before ;  was  it 
not  at  Bow  Street  ? ' 

'  I  am  surprised  at  your  asking  a  question,  sir,  from  the 
bench,  to  which,  if  I  answered,  the  reply  might  affect  me 
considerably.  I  am  here  in  a  false  position,  and  cannot  well 
help  myself.  I  have  no  friends  that  I  choose  to  call,  for 
I  should  blush  that  they  should  see  me  in  such  a  state,  and 
under  such  imputations.' 

281 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  Your  relations,  young  man,  would  certainly  not  be  back- 
ward.     Who  is  your  father  ? ' 

*  My  father  ! '  exclaimed  I,  raising  up  my  hands  and  eyes. 
'  My  father  !     Merciful  God  ! — if  he  could  only  see  me  here 
— see    to   what    he    has    reduced    his    unhappy    son/    and    I 
covered  my  face  and  sobbed  convulsively. 


CHAPTER    LIX 

By  the  committing  of  magisterial  mistakes  I  am  personally  and  penally 
committed  —  I  prepare  for  my  trial  by  calling  in  the  assistance  of 
the  tailor  and  the  perfumer — I  am  resolved  to  die  like  a  gentleman. 

'  IT  is  indeed  a  pity,  a  great  pity,3  observed  one  of  the 
magistrates,  'such  a  fine  young  man,  and  evidently,  by  his 
demeanour  and  language,  well  brought  up ;  but  I  believe,' 
said  he,  turning  to  the  others,  *  we  have  but  one  course ; 
what  say  you,  Mr.  Norman  ? ' 

'  I  am  afraid  that  my  opinion  coincides  with  yours, 
and  that  the  grand  jury  will  not  hesitate  to  find  a  bill,  as 
the  case  stands  at  present.  Let  us,  however,  ask  the 
witness  Armstrong  one  question.  Do  you  positively  swear 
to  this  young  man  being  one  of  the  persons  who  attacked 
you?' 

'  It  was  not  very  light  at  the  time,  sir,  and  both  the 
men  had  their  faces  smutted;  but  it  was  a  person  just  his 
size,  and  dressed  in  the  same  way,  as  near  as  I  can  recollect.' 

'  You  cannot,  therefore,  swear  to  his  identity  ? ' 

'  No,  sir ;  but  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge  and  belief, 
he  is  the  man.' 

'Take  that  evidence  down  as  important,'  said  Mr. 
Norman  ;  '  it  will  assist  him  at  his  trial.' 

The  evidence  was  taken  down,  and  then  my  commitment 
to  the  county  gaol  was  made  out.  I  was  placed  in  a  cart, 
between  two  constables,  and  driven  off.  On  my  arrival  I 
was  put  into  a  cell,  and  my  money  returned  to  me,  but 
the  ring  was  detained,  that  it  might  be  advertised.  At 
last,  I  was  freed  from  the  manacles ;  and  when  the  prison 
dress  was  brought  to  me  to  put  on,  in  lieu  of  my  own  clothes, 

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JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  requested  leave  from  the  gaoler  to  wash  myself,  which 
was  granted ;  and,  strange  to  say,  so  unaccustomed  had  I 
been  to  such  a  state  of  filth,  that  I  felt  a  degree  of  happiness, 
as  I  returned  from  the  pump  in  the  prison-yard,  and  I  put 
on  the  prison  dress  almost  with  pleasure ;  for,  degrading  as 
it  was,  at  all  events  it  was  new  and  clean.  I  then  returned 
to  my  cell,  and  was  left  to  my  meditations. 

Now  that  my  examination  and  committal  were  over,  I 
became  much  more  composed,  and  was  able  to  reflect 
coolly.  I  perceived  the  great  danger  of  my  situation — how 
strong  the  evidence  was  against  me — and  how  little  chance 
I  had  of  escape.  As  for  sending  to  Lord  Windermear, 
Mr.  Masterton,  or  those  who  formerly  were  acquainted  with 
me,  my  pride  forbade  it — I  would  sooner  have  perished  on 
the  scaffold.  Besides,  their  evidence  as  to  my  former 
situation  in  life,  although  it  would  perhaps  satisfactorily 
account  for  my  possession  of  the  money  and  the  ring,  and 
for  my  disposing  of  my  portmanteau — all  strong  presumptive 
evidence  against  me  —  would  not  destroy  the  evidence 
brought  forward  as  to  the  robbery,  which  appeared  to  be 
so  very  conclusive  to  the  bench  of  magistrates.  My  only 
chance  appeared  to  be  in  the  footpad,  who  had  not  escaped, 
acknowledging  that  I  was  not  his  accomplice ;  and  I  felt 
how  much  I  was  interested  in  his  recovery,  as  well  as  in 
his  candour.  The  assizes,  I  knew,  were  near  at  hand,  and 
I  anxiously  awaited  the  return  of  the  gaoler,  to  make  a  few 
inquiries.  At  night  he  looked  through  the  small  square 
cut  out  of  the  top  of  the  door  of  the  cell,  for  it  was  his  duty 
to  go  his  rounds  and  ascertain  if  all  his  prisoners  were  safe. 
I  then  asked  him  if  I  might  be  allowed  to  make  a  few 
purchases,  such  as  pens,  ink,  and  paper,  etc.  As  I  was 
not  committed  to  prison  in  punishment,  but  on  suspicion, 
this  was  not  denied,  although  it  would  have  been  to  those 
who  were  condemned  to  imprisonment  and  hard  labour  for 
their  offences  ;  and  he  volunteered  to  procure  them  for  me 
the  next  morning.  I  then  wished  him  a  good-night,  and 
threw  myself  on  my  mattress.  Worn  out  with  fatigue  and 
distress  of  mind,  I  slept  soundly,  without  dreaming,  until 
daylight  the  next  morning.  As  I  awoke,  and  my  scattered 
senses  were  returning,  I  had  a  confused  idea  that  there 
was  something  which  weighed  heavily  on  my  mind,  which 

283 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

sleep  had  banished  from  my  memory.  '  What  is  it  ? 3 
thought  I  ;  and  as  I  opened  my  eyes,  so  did  I  remember 
that  I,  Japhet  Newland,  who  but  two  nights  before  was 
pressing  the  down  of  luxury  in  the  same  habitation  as  Lady 
de  Clare  and  her  lovely  child,  was  now  on  a  mattress  in 
the  cell  of  a  prison,  under  a  charge  which  threatened  me 
with  an  ignominious  death.  I  rose,  and  sat  on  the  bed, 
for  I  had  not  thrown  off  my  clothes.  My  first  thoughts 
were  directed  to  Timothy.  Should  I  write  to  him?  No, 
no  !  why  should  I  make  him  miserable  ?  If  I  was  to  suffer, 
it  should  be  under  an  assumed  name.  But  what  name? 
Here  I  was  interrupted  by  the  gaoler,  who  opened  the  door, 
and  desired  me  to  roll  up  my  mattress  and  bed-clothes,  that 
they  might,  as  was  the  custom,  be  taken  out  of  the  cell 
during  the  day. 

My  first  inquiry  was,  if  the  man  who  had  been  so  much 
hurt  was  in  the  gaol. 

*  You   mean    your   'complice,'   replied    the  gaoler.       '  Yes, 
he  is  here,  and  has  recovered  his  senses.     The  doctor  says 
he  will  do  very  well.' 

1  Has  he  made  any  confession  ?'  inquired  I. 
The  gaoler  made  no  reply. 

*  I  ask  that  question,'  continued  I,  '  because  if  he  acknow- 
ledges who  was  his  accomplice,  I  shall  be  set  at  liberty.' 

1  Very  likely,'  replied  the  man,  sarcastically ;  '  the  fact 
is,  there  is  no  occasion  for  king's  evidence  in  this  case,  or 
you  might  get  off  by  crossing  the  water ;  so  you  must 
trust  to  your  luck.  The  grand  jury  meet  to-day,  and  I 
will  let  you  know  whether  a  true  bill  is  found  against  you 
or  not.' 

*  What  is  the  name  of  the  other  man  ? '  inquired  I. 

'  Well,  you  are  a  good  un  to  put  a  face  upon  a  matter, 
I  will  say.  You  would  almost  persuade  me,  with  that 
innocent  look  of  yours,  that  you  know  nothing  about  the 
business.' 

'  Nor  do  I,'  replied  I. 

'You  will  be  fortunate  if  you  can  prove  as  much,  that's 
all.' 

'  Still,  you  have  not  answered  my  question  :  what  is  the 
other  man's  name  ? ' 

'Well,'  replied  the  gaoler,  laughing,  'since  you  are 
284 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

determined  I  shall  tell  you,  I  will.  It  must  be  news  to  you, 
with  a  vengeance.  His  name  is  Bill  Ogle,  alias  Swamping 
Bill.  I  suppose  you  never  heard  that  name  before  ? ' 

'  I  certainly  never  did,'  replied  I. 

'  Perhaps  you  do  not  know  your  own  name  ?  Yet  I  can 
tell  it  you,  for  Bill  Ogle  has  blown  upon  you  so  far.' 

'Indeed,'  replied  I;  'and  what  name  has  he  given  to 
me?' 

'Why,  to  do  him  justice,  it  wasn't  until  he  saw  a  copy 
of  the  depositions  before  the  magistrates,  and  heard  how 
you  were  nabbed  in  trying  to  help  him  off,  that  he  did  tell 
it ;  and  then  he  said,  "  Well,  Phill  Maddox  always  was  a 
true  un,  and  I'm  mortal  sony  that  he's  in  fort,  by  looking 
a'ter  me."  Now  do  you  know  your  own  name  ?' 

'  I  certainly  do  not,'  replied  I. 

'  Well,  did  you  ever  hear  of  one  who  went  by  the  name 
of  Phill  Maddox  ? ' 

'  I  never  did,'  replied  I  ;  '  and  I  am  glad  that  Ogle  has 
disclosed  so  much.' 

c  Well,  I  never  before  met  with  a  man  who  didn't  know  his 
own  name,  or  had  the  face  to  say  so,  and  expect  to  be  be- 
lieved ;  but  never  mind,  you  are  right  to  be  cautious,  with  the 
halter  looking  you  in  the  face.' 

1 0  God  !  O  God  ! '  exclaimed  I,  throwing  myself  on  the 
bedstead,  and  covering  up  my  face,  '  give  me  strength  to  bear 
even  that,  if  so  it  must  be.' 

The  gaoler  looked  at  me  for  a  time.  '  I  don't  know  what 
to  make  of  him — he  puzzles  me  quite,  certainly.  Yet  it's  no 
mistake.' 

'It  is  a  mistake,'  replied  I,  rising;  'but  whether  the  mis- 
take will  be  found  out  until  too  late,  is  another  point.  However, 
it  is  of  little  consequence.  What  have  I  to  live  for, — unless 
to  find  out  who  is  my  father  ? ' 

'  Find  out  your  father !  what's  in  the  wind  now  ?  well,  it 
beats  my  comprehension  altogether.  But  did  not  you  say  you 
wished  me  to  get  you  something  ? ' 

'  Yes,'  replied  I  ;  and  I  gave  him  some  money,  with 
directions  to  purchase  me  implements  for  writing,  some 
scented  wax,  a  tooth-brush,  and  tooth-powder,  eau  de  cologne, 
hair-brush  and  comb,  razors,  small  looking-glass,  and  various 
implements  for  my  toilet, 

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JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  This  is  a  rum  world,'  said  the  man,  repeating  what  I  asked 
for,  as  I  put  two  guineas  in  his  hand.  '  I've  purchased  many 
an  article  for  a  prisoner,  but  never  heard  of  such  rattletraps 
afore  ;  however,  that  be  all  the  same.  You  will  have  them, 
though  what  ho  de  colum  is  I  can't  tell,  nor  dang  me  if  I  shall  re- 
collect— not  poison,  be  it,  for  that  is  not  allowed  in  the  prison  ? ' 

'  No,  no,'  replied  I,  indulging  in  momentary  mirth  at  the 
idea  ;  '  you  may  inquire,  and  you  will  find  that  it's  only  taken 
by  ladies  who  are  troubled  with  the  vapours.' 

'  Now  I  should  ha'  thought  that  you'd  have  spent  your 
money  in  the  cookshop,  which  is  so  much  more  natural. 
However,  we  all  have  our  fancies';  so  saying,  he  quitted  the 
cell,  and  locked  the  door. 


CHAPTER    LX 

I  am  condemned  to  be  hung  by  the  neck  until  I  am  dead,  and  to  go  out 
of  the  world  without  finding  out  who  is  my  father — Afterwards  my 
innocence  is  made  manifest,  and  I  am  turned  adrift  a  maniac  in  the 
high  road. 

IT  may  appear  strange  to  the  reader  that  I  sent  for  the  above- 
mentioned  articles,  but  habit  is  second  nature,  and  although, 
two  days  before,  when  I  set  out  on  my  pilgrimage,  I  had 
resolved  to  discard  these  superfluities,  yet  now  in  my  distress 
I  felt  as  if  they  would  comfort  me.  That  evening,  after 
rectifying  a  few  mistakes  on  the  part  of  the  good-tempered 
gaoler,  by  writing  down  what  I  wanted  on  the  paper  which  he 
had  procured  me,  I  obtained  all  that  I  required. 

The  next  morning  he  informed  me  that  the  grand  jury  had 
found  a  true  bill  against  me,  and  that  on  the  Saturday  next 
the  assizes  would  be  held.  He  also  brought  me  the  list  of 
trials,  and  I  found  that  mine  would  be  one  of  the  last,  and 
would  not  probably  come  on  until  Monday  or  Tuesday.  I 
requested  him  to  send  for  a  good  tailor,  as  I  wished  to  be 
dressed  in  a  proper  manner,  previous  to  appearing  in  court. 
As  a  prisoner  is  allowed  to  go  into  court  in  his  own  clothes 
instead  of  the  gaol  dress,  this  was  consented  to  ;  and  when 
the  man  came,  I  was  very  particular  in  my  directions,  so  much 

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JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

so,  that  it  surprised  him.  He  also  procured  me  the  other 
articles  I  required  to  complete  my  dress,  and  on  Saturday 
night  I  had  them  all  ready  ;  for  I  was  resolved  that  I  would 
at  least  die  as  a  gentleman. 

Sunday  passed  away,  not  as  it  ought  to  have  passed, 
certainly.  I  attended  prayers,  but  my  thoughts  were  else- 
where— how,  indeed,  could  it  be  otherwise  ?  Who  can  control 
his  thoughts  ?  He  may  attempt  so  to  do,  but  the  attempt  is 
all  that  can  be  made.  He  cannot  command  them.  I  heard 
nothing,  my  mind  was  in  a  state  of  gyration,  whirling  round 
from  one  thing  to  the  other,  until  I  was  giddy  from  intensity 
of  feeling. 

On  Monday  morning  the  gaoler  came  and  asked  me 
whether  I  would  have  legal  advice.  I  replied  in  the  negative. 
'  You  will  be  called  about  twelve  o'clock,  I  hear,'  continued  he  ; 
'  it  is  now  ten,  and  there  is  only  one  more  trial  before  yours, 
about  the  stealing  of  four  geese,  and  half-a-dozen  fowls.3 

*  Good  God  ! '  thought  I,  '  and  am  I  mixed  up  with  such 
deeds  as  these  ? '  I  dressed  myself  with  the  utmost  care  and 
precision,  and  never  was  more  successful.  My  clothes  were 
black,  and  fitted  well.  About  one  o'clock  I  was  summoned 
by  the  gaoler,  and  led  between  him  and  another  to  the  court- 
house, and  placed  in  the  dock.  At  first  my  eyes  swam,  and 
I  could  distinguish  nothing,  but  gradually  I  recovered.  I 
looked  round,  for  I  had  called  up  my  courage.  My  eyes 
wandered  from  the  judge  to  the  row  of  legal  gentlemen  below 
him;  from  them  to  the  well-dressed  ladies  who  sat  in  the 
gallery  above  ;  behind  me  I  did  not  look.  I  had  seen  enough, 
and  my  cheeks  burnt  with  shame.  At  last  I  looked  at  my 
fellow-culprit,  who  stood  beside  me,  and  his  eyes  at  the  same 
time  met  mine.  He  was  dressed  in  the  gaol  clothes,  of 
pepper  and  salt  coarse  cloth.  He  was  a  rough,  vulgar,  brutal- 
looking  man,  but  his  eye  was  brilliant,  his  complexion  was 
dark,  and  his  face  was  covered  with  whiskers.  *  Good 
heavens  ! '  thought  I,  *  who  will  ever  imagine  or  credit  that 
we  have  been  associates  ? ' 

The  man  stared  at  me,  bit  his  lip,  and  smiled  with  con- 
tempt, but  made  no  further  remark.  The  indictment  having 
been  read,  the  clerk  of  the  court  cried  out,  'You,  Benjamin 
Ogle,  having  heard  the  charge,  say,  guilty  or  not  guilty?' 

'  Not  guilty,'  replied  the  man,  to  my  astonishment. 
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'  /  was  placed  in  the  dock.' 
Copyright  1894  by  Maanillan  &•  Co 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  You,  Philip  Maddox,  guilty  or  not  guilty  ? ' 

I  did  not  answer. 

'  Prisoner,'  observed  the  judge  in  a  mild  voice,  '  you  must 
answer,  Guilty  or  Not  guilty.  It  is  merely  a  form.' 

'  My  lord,'  replied  I,  *  my  name  is  not  Philip  Maddox.' 

'That  is  the  name  given  in  the  indictment  by  the  evidence 
of  your  fellow-prisoner,'  observed  the  judge  ;  '  your  real  name 
we  cannot  pretend  to  know.  It  is  sufficient  that  you  answer 
to  the  question  of  whether  you,  the  prisoner,  are  guilty  or  not 
guilty.' 

'  Not  guilty,  my  lord,  most  certainly,'  replied  I,  placing  my 
hand  to  my  heart,  and  bowing  to  him. 

The  trial  proceeded  ;  Armstrong  was  the  principal  evidence. 
To  my  person  he  would  not  swear.  The  Jew  proved  my 
selling  my  clothes,  purchasing  those  found  in  the  bundle,  and 
the  stick,  of  which  Armstrong  possessed  himself.  The  clothes 
I  had  on  at  the  time  of  my  capture  were  produced  in  court. 
As  for  Ogle,  his  case  was  decisive.  We  were  then  called 
upon  for  our  defence.  Ogle's  was  very  short.  '  He  had  been 
accustomed  to  fits  all  his  life — was  walking  to  Hounslow,  and 
had  fallen  down  in  a  fit.  It  must  have  been  somebody  else 
who  had  committed  the  robbery  and  had  made  off,  and  he 
had  been  picked  up  in  a  mistake.'  This  defence  appeared  to 
make  no  other  impression  than  ridicule,  and  indignation  at  the 
barefaced  assertion.  I  was  then  called  on  for  mine. 

'  My  lord,'  said  I,  '  I  have  no  defence  to  make  except  that 
which  I  asserted  before  the  magistrates,  that  I  was  performing 
an  act  of  charity  towards  a  fellow-creature,  and  was,  through 
that,  supposed  to  be  an  accomplice.  Arraigned  before  so 
many  upon  a  charge,  at  the  bare  accusation  of  which  my  blood 
revolts,  I  cannot  and  will  not  allow  those  who  might  prove 
what  my  life  has  been,  and  the  circumstances  which  induced 
me  to  take  up  the  disguise  in  which  I  was  taken,  to  appear  in 
my  behalf.  I  am  unfortunate,  but  not  guilty.  One  only 
chance  appears  to  be  open  to  me,  which  is,  in  the  candour  of 
the  party  who  now  stands  by  me.  If  he  will  say  to  the  court 
that  he  ever  saw  me  before,  I  will  submit  without  murmur  to 
my  sentence.' 

*  I'm  sorry  that  you've  put  that  question,  my  boy,'  replied 
the  man,'for  I  have  seen  you  before';  and  the  wretch  chuckled 
with  repressed  laughter. 

U  289 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  was  so  astonished,  so  thunderstruck  with  this  assertion, 
that  I  held  down  my  head,  and  made  no  reply.  The  judge 
then  summed  up  the  evidence  to  the  jury,  pointing  out  to 
them,  that  of  Ogle's  guilt  there  could  be  no  doubt,  and  of 
mine,  he  was  sorry  to  say,  but  little.  Still  they  must  bear  in 
mind  that  the  witness  Armstrong  could  not  swear  to  my 
person.  The  jury,  without  leaving  the  box,  consulted  together 
a  short  time,  and  brought  in  a  verdict  of  guilty  against 
Benjamin  Ogle  and  Philip  Maddox.  I  heard  no  more — the 
judge  sentenced  us  both  to  execution  :  he  lamented  that  so 
young  and  prepossessing  a  person  as  myself  should  be  about 
to  suffer  for  such  an  offence  :  he  pointed  out  the  necessity  of 
condign  punishment,  and  gave  us  no  hopes  of  pardon  or 
clemency.  But  I  heard  him  not — I  did  not  fall,  but  I  was  in 
a  state  of  stupor.  At  last,  he  wound  up  his  sentence  by  pray- 
ing us  to  prepare  ourselves  for  the  awful  change,  by  an  appeal 

to    that    heavenly   Father 'Father!'    exclaimed    I,    in    a 

voice   which   electrified  the   court,   '  did  you  say  my  father  ? 

0  God  !  where  is  he  ? '  and  I  fell  down  in  a  fit.      The  hand- 
kerchiefs of  the  ladies  were  applied  to  their  faces,  the  whole 
court   were   moved,    for    I    had,   by  my  appearance,    excited 
considerable  interest,  and  the  judge,  with  a  faltering,  subdued 
voice,  desired  that  the  prisoners  might  be  removed. 

*  Stop  one  minute,  my  good  fellow,'  said  Ogle  to  the  gaoler, 
while  others  were  taking  me  out  of  court.      *  My    lord,    I've 
something  rather  important  to  say.      Why   I   did  not    say    it 
before,   you  shall  hear.      You  are  a  judge,  to    condemn    the 
guilty,  and  release  the  innocent.      We  are  told  that  there  is  no 
trial  like  an  English  jury,  but  this  I  say,  that  many  a  man  is 
hung  for  what  he  never  has  been  guilty  of.     You  have  con- 
demned that  poor  young  man  to  death.      I   could  have  pre- 
vented it  if  I  had  chosen  to  speak  before,  but  I  would  not,  that  I 
might  prove  how  little  there  is  of  justice.     He  had  nothing  to 
do  with  the  robbery — Phill  Maddox  was  the  man,  and  he  is  not 
Philip  Maddox.      He  said  that  he  never  saw  me  before,  nor  do 

1  believe  that  he  ever  did.     As  sure   as    I    shall   hang,   he   is 
innocent.' 

'  It  was  but  now,  that  when  appealed  to  by  him,  you  stated 
that  you  had  seen  him  before.' 

*  So  I  did,  and  I  told  the  truth — I  had  seen  him  before.      I 
saw  him  go  to  hold  the  gentleman's  horse,  but  he  did  not  see 

290 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

me.  I  stole  his  bundle  and  his  stick,  which  he  left  on  the 
bench,  and  that's  how  they  were  found  in  our  possession. 
Now  you  have  the  truth,  and  you  may  either  acknowledge 
that  there  is  little  justice,  by  eating  your  own  words,  and  let- 
ting him  free,  or  you  may  hang  him,  rather  than  acknowledge 
that  you  are  wrong.  At  all  events,  his  blood  will  now  be  on 
your  hands,  and  not  mine.  If  Phill  Maddox  had  not  turned 
tail,  like  a  coward,  I  should  not  have  been  here  ;  so  I  tell  the 
truth  to  save  him  who  was  doing  me  a  kind  act,  and  to  let 
him  swing  who  left  me  in  the  lurch.' 

The  judge  desired  that  this  statement  might  be  taken  down, 
that  further  inquiry  might  be  made,  intimating  to  the  jury  that 
I  should  be  respited  for  the  present ;  but  of  all  this  I  was  ignor- 
ant. As  there  was  no  placing  confidence  in  the  assertions  of 
such  a  man  as  Ogle,  it  was  considered  necessary  that  he 
should  repeat  his  assertions  at  the  last  hour  of  his  existence, 
and  the  gaoler  was  ordered  not  to  state  what  had  passed  to 
me,  as  he  might  excite  false  hopes. 

When  I  recovered  from  my  fit,  I  found  myself  in  the 
gaoler's  parlour,  and  as  soon  as  I  was  able  to  walk,  I  was 
locked  up  in  a  condemned  cell.  The  execution  had  been 
ordered  to  take  place  on  the  Thursday,  and  I  had  two  days  to 
prepare.  In  the  meantime,  the  greatest  interest  had  been 
excited  with  regard  to  me.  My  whole  appearance  so  evi- 
dently belied  the  charge,  that  every  one  was  in  my  favour. 
Ogle  was  requestioned,  and  immediately  gave  a  clue  for  the 
apprehension  of  Maddox,  who,  he  said,  he  hoped  would  swing 
by  his  side. 

The  gaoler  came  to  me  the  next  day,  saying,  that  some  of 
the  magistrates  wished  to  speak  with  me  ;  but  as  I  had  made 
up  my  mind  not  to  reveal  my  former  life,  my  only  reply  was, 
*  That  I  begged  they  would  allow  me  to  have  my  last 
moments  to  myself.'  I  recollected  Melchior's  idea  of  destiny, 
and  imagined  that  he  was  right.  *  It  was  my  destiny,' 
thought  I  ;  and  I  remained  in  a  state  of  stupor.  The  fact 
was,  that  I  was  very  ill,  my  head  was  heavy,  my  brain  was  on 
fire,  and  the  throbbing  of  my  heart  could  have  been  perceived 
without  touching  my  breast. 

I  remained  on  the  mattress  all  day,  and  all  the  next  night, 
with  my  face  buried  in  the  clothes  !  I  was  too  ill  to  raise  my 
head.  On  Wednesday  morning  I  felt  myself  gently  pushed 

291 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

on  the  shoulder  by  some  one  ;  I  opened  my  eyes  ;  it  was  a 
clergyman.  I  turned  away  my  head,  and  remained  as  before. 
I  was  then  in  a  violent  fever.  He  spoke  for  some  time  : 
occasionally  I  heard  a  word,  and  then  relapsed  into  a  state  of 
mental  imbecility.  He  sighed,  and  went  away. 

Thursday  came,  and  the  hour  of  death, — but  time  was  by 
me  unheeded,  as  well  as  eternity.  In  the  meantime  Maddox 
had  been  taken,  and  the  contents  of  Armstrong's  bundle  found 
in  his  possession  ;  and  when  he  discovered  that  Ogle  had 
been  evidence  against  him,  he  confessed  to  the  robbery. 

Whether  it  was  on  Thursday  or  Friday  I  knew  not  then, 
but  I  was  lifted  off  the  bed,  and  taken  before  somebody — 
something  passed,  but  the  fever  had  mounted  up  to  my  head, 
and  I  was  in  a  state  of  stupid  delirium.  Strange  to  say,  they 
did  not  perceive  my  condition,  but  ascribed  it  all  to  abject  fear 
of  death.  I  was  led  away — I  had  made  no  answer — but  I 
was  free. 


CHAPTER   LXI 

When  at  the  lowest  spoke  of  fortune's  wheel,  one  is  sure  to  rise  as  it  turns 
round — I  recover  my  senses,  and  find  myself  amongst  friends. 

I  THINK  some  people  shook  me  by  the  hand,  and  others 
shouted  as  I  walked  in  the  open  air,  but  I  recollect  no  more. 
I  afterwards  was  informed  that  I  had  been  reprieved,  that  I 
had  been  sent  for,  and  a  long  exhortation  delivered  to  me,  for 
it  was  considered  that  my  life  must  have  been  one  of  error,  or 
I  should  have  applied  to  my  friends,  and  have  given  my 
name.  My  not  answering  was  attributed  to  shame  and  con- 
fusion— my  glassy  eye  had  not  been  noticed — my  tottering 
step  when  led  in  by  the  gaolers  attributed  to  other  causes  ; 
and  the  magistrates  shook  their  heads  as  I  was  led  out  of 
their  presence.  The  gaoler  had  asked  me  several  times  where 
I  intended  to  go.  At  last  I  had  told  him,  to  seek  my  father, 
and  darting  away  from  him  I  had  run  like  a  madman  down 
the  street.  Of  course  he  had  no  longer  any  power  over  me  : 
but  he  muttered  as  I  fled  from  him,  '  I've  a  notion  he'll  soon 
be  locked  up  again,  poor  fellow !  it's  turned  his  brain  for 
certain.' 

292 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

As  I  tottered  along,  my  unsteady  step  naturally  attracted 
the  attention  of  the  passers-by  ;  but  they  attributed  it  to  in- 
toxication. Thus  was  I  allowed  to  wander  away  in  a  state  of 
madness,  and  before  night  I  was  far  from  the  town.  What 
passed,  and  whither  I  had  bent  my  steps,  I  cannot  tell.  All 
I  know  is,  that  after  running  like  a  maniac,  seizing  everybody 
by  the  arm  that  I  met,  staring  at  them  with  wild  and  flashing 
eyes  ;  and  sometimes  in  a  solemn  voice,  at  others,  in  a  loud, 
threatening  tone,  startling  them  with  the  interrogatory,  *  Are 
you  my  father  ?'  and  then  darting  away,  or  sobbing  like  a 
child,  as  the  humour  took  me,  I  had  crossed  the  country  ; 
and  three  days  afterwards  I  was  picked  up  at  the  door  of  a 
house  in  the  town  of  Reading,  exhausted  with  fatigue  and 
exposure,  and  nearly  dead.  When  I  recovered,  I  found  my- 
self in  bed,  my  head  shaved,  my  arm  bound  up,  after  repeated 
bleedings,  and  a  female  figure  sitting  by  me. 

'  God  in  heaven  !  where  am  I  ? '  exclaimed  I  faintly. 

'  Thou  hast  called  often  upon  thy  earthly  father  during  the 
time  of  thy  illness,  friend,'  replied  a  soft  voice.  '  It  rejoice th 
me  much  to  hear  thee  call  upon  thy  Father  which  is  in  heaven. 
Be  comforted,  thou  art  in  the  hands  of  those  who  will  be 
mindful  of  thee.  Offer  up  thy  thanks  in  one  short  prayer,  for 
thy  return  to  reason,  and  then  sink  again  into  repose,  for  thou 
must  need  it  much.' 

I  opened  my  eyes  wide,  and  perceived  that  a  young  person 
in  a  Quaker's  dress  was  sitting  by  the  bed  working  with  her 
needle  ;  an  open  Bible  was  on  a  little  table  before  her.  I  per- 
ceived also  a  cup,  and  parched  with  thirst,  I  merely  said, 
'  Give  me  to  drink.'  She  arose,  and  put  a  teaspoon  to  my 
lips  ;  but  I  raised  my  hand,  took  the  cup  from  her,  and 
emptied  it.  Oh,  how  delightful  was  that  draught  !  I  sank 
down  on  my  pillow,  for  even  that  slight  exertion  had  over- 
powered me,  and  muttering,  '  God,  I  thank  thee  !'  I  was 
immediately  in  a  sound  sleep,  from  which  I  did  not  awake  for 
many  hours.  When  I  did,  it  was  not  daylight.  A  lamp  was 
on  the  table,  and  an  old  man  in  a  Quaker's  dress  was  snoring 
very  comfortably  in  the  arm-chair.  I  felt  quite  refreshed  with 
my  long  sleep,  and  was  now  able  to  recall  what  had  passed. 
I  remembered  the  condemned  cell  and  the  mattress  upon 
which  I  lay,  but  all  after  was  in  a  state  of  confusion.  Here 
and  there  a  fact  or  supposition  was  strong  in  my  memory  ; 

293 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

but  the  intervals  between  were  total  blanks.  I  was,  at  all 
events,  free,  that  I  felt  convinced  of,  and  that  I  was  in  the 
hands  of  the  sect  who  denominate  themselves  Quakers  :  but 
where  was  I  ?  and  how  did  I  come  here  ?  I  remained  think- 
ing on  the  past,  and  wondering,  until  the  day  broke,  and  with 
the  daylight  roused  up  my  watchful  attendant.  He  yawned, 
stretched  his  arms,  and  rising  from  the  chair,  came  to  the  side 
of  my  bed.  I  looked  him  in  the  face.  '  Hast  thou  slept  well, 
friend  ? '  said  he. 

*  I  have  slept  as  much  as  I  wish,  and  would  not  disturb 
you]  replied  I,  *  for  I  wanted  nothing.' 

1  Peradventure  I  did  sleep,'  replied  the  man;  'watching 
long  agreeth  not  with  the  flesh,  although  the  spirit  is  most 
willing.  Requirest  thou  anything  ?' 

'  Yes,'  replied  I,  '  I  wish  to  know  where  I  am.' 

*  Verily,  thou  art  in  the  town  of  Reading,  in  Berkshire,  and 
in  the  house  of  Pheneas  Cophagus.' 

'  Cophagus  !'  exclaimed  I  ;  '  Mr.  Cophagus,  the  surgeon 
and  apothecary  ?' 

'  Pheneas  Cophagus  is  his  name  ;  he  hath  been  admitted 
into  our  sect,  and  hath  married  a  daughter  of  our  persuasion. 
He  hath  attended  thee  in  thy  fever  and  thy  frenzy,  without 
calling  in  the  aid  of  the  physician,  therefore  do  I  believe  that 
he  must  be  the  man  of  whom  thou  speakest  ;  yet  doth  he  not 
follow  up  the  healing  art  for  the  lucre  of  gain.' 

*  And  the  young  person  who  was  at  my  bedside,  is  she  his 
wife  ?' 

4  Nay,  friend,  she  is  half-sister  to  the  wife  of  Pheneas 
Cophagus  by  a  second  marriage,  and  a  maiden,  who  was 
named  Susannah  Temple  at  the  baptismal  font  ;  but  I  will  go 
to  Pheneas  Cophagus  and  acquaint  him  of  your  waking,  for 
such  were  his  directions.' 

The  man  then  quitted  the  room,  leaving  me  quite 
astonished  with  the  information  he  had  imparted.  Cophagus 
turned  Quaker  !  and  attending  me  in  the  town  of  Reading. 
In  a  short  time  Mr.  Cophagus  himself  entered  in  his  dressing- 
gown.  '  Japhet  !'  said  he,  seizing  my  hand  with  eagerness, 
and  then,  as  if  recollecting,  he  checked  himself,  and  com- 
menced in  a  slow  tone,  '  Japhet  Newland — truly  glad  am  I — 
hum — verily  do  I  rejoice — you,  Ephraim — get  out  of  the  room 
— and  so  on.' 

294 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'Yea,  I  will  depart,  since  it  is  thy  bidding,'  replied  the 
man,  quitting  the  room. 

Mr.  Cophagus  then  greeted  me  in  his  usual  way — told  me 
that  he  had  found  me  insensible  at  the  door  of  a  house  a  little 
way  off,  and  had  immediately  recognised  me.  He  had 
brought  me  to  his  own  home,  but  without  much  hope  of  my 
recovery.  He  then  begged  to  know  by  what  strange  chance  I 
had  been  found  in  such  a  desolate  condition.  I  replied, 
'  that  although  I  was  able  to  listen,  I  did  not  feel  myself  equal 
to  the  exertion  of  telling  so  long  a  story,  and  that  I  should  in- 
finitely prefer  that  he  should  narrate  to  me  what  had  passed 
since  we  had  parted  at  Dublin,  and  how  it  was  that  I  now 
found  that  he  had  joined  the  sect  of  Quakers.3 

'  Peradventure — long  word  that — um — queer  people — very 
good — and  so  on,'  commenced  Mr.  Cophagus  ;  but  as  the 
reader  will  not  understand  his  phraseology  quite  so  well  as  I 
did,  I  shall  give  Mr.  Cophagus's  history  in  my  own  version. 

Mr.  Cophagus  had  returned  to  the  small  town  at  which  he 
resided,  and,  on  his  arrival,  he  had  been  called  upon  by  a 
gentleman  who  was  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  requesting  that 
he  would  prescribe  for  a  niece  of  his,  who  was  on  a  visit  at 
his  house,  and  had  been  taken  dangerously  ill.  Cophagus, 
with  his  usual  kindness  of  heart,  immediately  consented,  and 
found  that  Mr.  Temple's  report  was  true.  For  six  weeks  he 
attended  the  young  Quakeress,  and  recovered  her  from  an 
imminent  and  painful  disease,  in  which  she  showed  such 
fortitude  and  resignation,  and  such  unconquerable  good 
temper,  that  when  Mr.  Cophagus  returned  to  his  bachelor's 
establishment,  he  could  not  help  reflecting  upon  what  an  in- 
valuable wife  she  would  make,  and  how  much  more  cheerful 
his  house  would  be  with  such  a  domestic  partner. 

In  short,  Mr.  Cophagus  fell  in  love,  and  like  all  elderly 
gentlemen  who  have  so  long  bottled  up  their  affections,  he 
became  most  desperately  enamoured  ;  and  if  he  loved  Miss 
Judith  Temple  when  he  witnessed  her  patience  and  resigna- 
tion under  suffering,  how  much  more  did  he  love  her  when  he 
found  that  she  was  playful,  merry,  and  cheerful,  without  being 
boisterous,  when  restored  to  her  health.  Mr.  Cophagus's 
attentions  could  not  be  misunderstood.  He  told  her  uncle 
that  he  had  thought  seriously  of  wedding-cake — white  favours 
— marriage — family — and  so  on  ;  and  to  the  young  lady  he 

295 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

had  put  his  cane  up  to  his  nose  and  prescribed,  '  A  dose  of 
matrimony — to  be  taken  immediately.'  To  Mr.  Cophagus 
there  was  no  objection  raised  by  the  lady,  who  was  not  in  her 
teens,  or  by  the  uncle,  who  had  always  respected  him  as  a 
worthy  man,  and  a  good  Christian  ;  but  to  marry  one  who  was 
not  of  her  persuasion,  was  not  to  be  thought  of.  Her  friends 
would  not  consent  to  it.  Mr.  Cophagus  was  therefore  dis- 
missed, with  a  full  assurance  that  the  only  objection  which 
offered  was  that  he  was  not  of  their  society. 

Mr.  Cophagus  walked  home  discomforted.  He  sat  down 
on  his  easy  chair,  and  found  it  excessively  uneasy — he  sat 
down  to  his  solitary  meal,  and  found  that  his  own  company 
was  unbearable — he  went  to  bed,  but  found  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  go  to  sleep.  The  next  morning,  therefore,  Mr. 
Cophagus  returned  to  Mr.  Temple,  and  stated  his  wish  to  be 
made  acquainted  with  the  difference  between  the  tenets  of  the 
Quaker  persuasion  and  those  of  the  Established  Church.  Mr. 
Temple  gave  him  an  outline,  which  appeared  to  Mr.  Cophagus 
to  be  very  satisfactory,  and  then  referred  him  to  his  niece  for 
fuller  particulars.  When  a  man  enters  into  an  argument  with 
a  full  desire  to  be  convinced,  and  with  his  future  happiness 
perhaps  depending  upon  that  conviction  ;  and  when,  further, 
those  arguments  are  brought  forward  by  one  of  the  prettiest 
voices,  and  backed  by  the  sweetest  of  smiles,  it  is  not  to  be 
wondered  at  his  soon  becoming  a  proselyte.  Thus  it  was  with 
Mr.  Cophagus,  who  in  a  week  discovered  that  the  peace, 
humility,  and  good -will,  upon  which  the  Quaker  tenets  are 
founded,  were  much  more  congenial  to  the  true  spirit  of  the 
Christian  revelation  than  the  Athanasian  Creed,  to  be  sung  or 
said  in  our  Established  Churches  ;  and  with  this  conviction, 
Mr.  Cophagus  requested  admission  into  the  fraternity;  and 
shortly  after  his  admission,  it  was  thought  advisable  by  the 
Friends  that  his  faith  should  be  confirmed  and  strengthened 
by  his  espousal  of  Miss  Judith  Temple,  with  whom,  at  her 
request — and  he  could  refuse  her  nothing — he  had  repaired  to 
the  town  of  Reading,  in  which  her  relations  all  resided  ;  and 
Pheneas  Cophagus,  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  declared  himself 
to  be  as  happy  as  a  man  could  be.  '  Good  people,  Japhet — urn 
— honest  people,  Japhet — don't  fight — little  stiff — spirit  moves 
— and  so  on,'  said  Mr.  Cophagus,  as  he  concluded  his  narrative, 
and  then  shaking  me  by  the  hand,  retired  to  shave  and  dress. 

296 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER    LXII 

I  fall  in  love  with  religion  when  preached  by  one  who  has  the  form  of 
an  angel. 

IN  half  an  hour  afterwards  Ephraim  came  in  with  a  draught, 
which  I  was  desired  to  take  by  Mr.  Cophagus,  and  then  to  try 
and  sleep.  This  was  good  advice,  and  I  followed  it.  I  awoke 
after  a  long,  refreshing  sleep,  and  found  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cophagus 
sitting  in  the  room,  she  at  work  and  he  occupied  with  a  book. 
When  I  opened  my  eyes,  and  perceived  a  female,  I  looked  to 
ascertain  if  it  was  the  young  person  whom  Ephraim  had  stated 
to  be  Susannah  Temple  ;  not  that  I  recollected  her  features 
exactly,  but  I  did  the  contour  of  her  person.  Mrs.  Cophagus 
was  taller,  and  I  had  a  fair  scrutiny  of  her  before  they  per- 
ceived that  I  was  awake.  Her  face  was  very  pleasing,  features 
small  and  regular.  She  appeared  to  be  about  thirty  years  of 
age,  and  was  studiously  neat  and  clean  in  her  person.  Her 
Quaker's  dress  was  not  without  some  little  departure  from  the 
strict  fashion  and  form,  sufficient  to  assist,  without  deviating 
from,  its  simplicity.  If  I  might  use  the  term,  it  was  a  little 
coquettish,  and  evinced  that  the  wearer,  had  she  not  belonged 
to  that  sect,  would  have  shown  great  taste  in  the  adornment 
of  her  person. 

Mr.  Cophagus,  although  he  did  not  think  so  himself,  as  I 
afterwards  found  out,  was  certainly  much  improved  by  his 
change  of  costume.  His  spindle  shanks,  which,  as  I  have 
before  observed,  were  peculiarly  at  variance  with  his  little 
orbicular,  orange-shaped  stomach,  were  now  concealed  in  loose 
trousers,  which  took  off  from  the  protuberance  of  the  latter, 
and  added  dignity  to  the  former,  blending  the  two  together,  so 
that  his  roundness  became  fine  by  degrees,  and  beautifully  less 
as  it  descended.  Altogether,  the  Quaker  dress  added  very 
much  to  the  substantiability  of  his  appearance,  and  was  a 
manifest  improvement,  especially  when  he  wore  his  broad- 
brimmed  hat.  Having  satisfied  my  curiosity,  I  moved  the 
curtain  so  as  to  attract  their  attention,  and  Cophagus  came  to 
my  bedside,  and  felt  my  pulse.  *  Good — very  good — all  right 

297 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

— little  broth — throw  in  bark — on  his  legs — well  as  ever — 
and  so  on.' 

'  I  am  indeed  much  better  this  afternoon,'  replied  I  ; 
'  indeed,  so  well,  that  I  feel  as  if  I  could  get  up.' 

'  Pooh  : — tumble  down — never  do — lie  abed — get  strong 
— wife — Mrs.  Cophagus — Japhet — old  friend.' 

Mrs.  Cophagus  had  risen  from  her  chair,  and  come  towards 
the  bed,  when  her  husband  introduced  her  in  his  own  fashion. 
*  I  am  afraid  that  I  have  been  a  great  trouble,  madam,'  said  I. 

*  Japhet  Newland,  we  have  done  but  our  duty,  even  if  thou 
wert  not,  as  it  appears  that  thou  art,  a  friend  of  my  husband. 
Consider  me,  therefore,  as  thy  sister,  and  I  will  regard  thee  a*s 
a  brother ;  and  if  thou  wouldst  wish  it,  thou  shalt  sojourn  with 
us,  for  so  hath  my  husband  communicated  his  wishes  unto  me.' 

I  thanked  her  for  her  kind  expressions,  and  took  the  fair 
hand  which  was  offered  in  such  amity.  Cophagus  then  asked 
me  if  I  was  well  enough  to  inform  him  of  what  had  passed 
since  our  last  meeting,  and  telling  me  that  his  wife  knew  my 
whole  history,  and  that  I  might  speak  before  her,  he  took  his 
seat  by  the  side  of  the  bed,  his  wife  also  drew  her  chair  nearer, 
and  I  commenced  the  narrative  of  what  had  passed  since  we 
parted  in  Ireland.  When  I  had  finished,  Mr.  Cophagus  com- 
menced as  usual,  '  Um — very  odd — lose  money — bad — grow 
honest — good — run  away  from  friends — bad — not  hung — good 
— brain  fever — bad — come  here — good — stay  with  us — quite 
comfortable — and  so  on.' 

'  Thou  hast  suffered  much,  friend  Japhet,'  said  Mrs. 
Cophagus,  wiping  her  eyes ;  '  and  I  would  almost  venture  to 
say,  hast  been  chastised  too  severely,  were  it  not  that  those 
whom  He  loveth,  He  chastiseth.  Still  thou  art  saved,  and 
now  out  of  danger ;  peradventure  thou  wilt  now  quit  a  vain 
world,  and  be  content  to  live  with  us  ;  nay,  as  thou  hast  the 
example  of  thy  former  master,  it  may  perhaps  please  the  Lord 
to  advise  thee  to  become  one  of  us,  and  to  join  us  as  a  Friend. 
My  husband  was  persuaded  to  the  right  path  by  me,'  continued 
she,  looking  fondly  at  him  ;  '  who  knoweth  but  some  of  our 
maidens  may  also  persuade  thee  to  eschew  a  vain,  unrighteous 
world,  and  follow  thy  Redeemer  in  humility  ? ' 

'Very  true — um — very  true,'  observed  Cophagus,  putting 
more  Quakerism  than  usual  in  his  style,  and  drawing  out  his 
urns  to  treble  their  usual  length  ;  '  happy  life — Japhet — um — 

298 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

all  at  peace — quiet  amusements — think  about  it — urn — no 
hurry — never  swear — by  and  by,  heh  ! — spirit  may  move — urn 
— not  now — talk  about  it — get  well — set  up  shop — and  so  on.; 


1  She  was  sitting  close  to  the  light  and  reading.' 

I  was  tired  with  talking  so  much,  and  having  taken  some 
nourishment,  again  fell  asleep.  When  I  awoke  in  the  evening, 
friend  Cophagus  and  his  wife  were  not  in  the  room ;  but 
Susannah  Temple,  whom  I  had  first  seen,  and  of  whom  I  had 

299 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

made  inquiry  of  Ephraim,  who  was  Cophagus's  servant.  She 
was  sitting  close  to  the  light  and  reading,  and  long  did  I 
continue  to  gaze  upon  her,  fearful  of  interrupting  her.  She 
was  the  most  beautiful  specimen  of  clear  and  transparent  white 
that  I  ever  had  beheld — her  complexion  was  unrivalled — her 
eyes  were  large,  but  I  could  not  ascertain  their  colour,  as  they 
were  cast  down  upon  her  book,  and  hid  by  her  long  fringed 
eyelashes — her  eyebrows  arched  and  regular,  as  if  drawn  by  a 
pair  of  compasses,  and  their  soft  hair  in  beautiful  contrast  with 
her  snowy  forehead — her  hair  was  auburn,  but  mostly  con- 
cealed within  her  cap — her  nose  was  very  straight  but  not 
very  large,  and  her  mouth  was  perfection.  She  appeared  to 
be  between  seventeen  and  eighteen  years  old,  as  far  as  I  could 
ascertain  :  her  figure  was  symmetrically  perfect.  Dressed  as 
she  was  in  the  modest,  simple  garb  worn  by  the  females  of  the 
Society  of  Friends,  she  gave  an  idea  of  neatness,  cleanliness, 
and  propriety  upon  which  I  could  have  gazed  for  ever.  She 
was,  indeed,  most  beautiful.  I  felt  her  beauty,  her  purity,  and 
I  could  have  worshipped  her  as  an  angel.  While  I  still  had 
my  eyes  fixed  upon  her  exquisite  features,  she  closed  her  book, 
and  rising  from  her  chair,  came  to  the  side  of  the  bed.  That 
she  might  not  be  startled  at  the  idea  of  my  having  been  watch- 
ing her,  I  closed  my  eyes,  and  pretended  to  slumber.  She 
resumed  her  seat,  and  then  I  changed  my  position  and  spoke, 
*  Is  any  one  there  ?' 

'Yes,  friend  Newland,  what  is  it  that  thou  requirest?' 
said  she,  advancing.  « Wouldst  thou  see  Cophagus  or 
Ephraim  ?  I  will  summon  them.' 

'  Oh  no,'  replied  I  ;  *  why  should  I  disturb  them  from  their 
amusements  or  employments  ?  I  have  slept  a  long  while, 
and  I  would  like  to  read  a  little,  I  think,  if  my  eyes  are  not 
too  weak.' 

4  Thou  must  not  read,  but  I  may  read  unto  thee,'  replied 
Susannah.  '  Tell  me,  what  is  it  that  thou  wouldest  have  me 
read  ?  I  have  no  vain  books  ;  but  surely  thou  thinkest  not  of 
them,  after  thy  escape  from  death.' 

*  I  care  not  what  is  read,  provided  that  you  read  to  me,' 
replied  I. 

'  Nay,  but  thou  shouldest  care  ;  and  be  not  wroth  if  I  say 
to  thee,  that  there  is  but  one  book  to  which  thou  shouldest 
now  listen.  Thou  hast  been  saved  from  deadly  peril — thou 

300 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

hast  been  rescued  from  the  jaws  of  death.  Art  thou  not 
thankful  ?  And  to  whom  is  gratitude  most  due,  but  to  thy 
heavenly  Father,  who  hath  been  pleased  to  spare  thee  ? 5 

'  You  are  right,'  replied  I  ;  '  then  I  pray  you  to  read  to  me 
from  the  Bible.' 

Susannah  made  no  reply,  but  resumed  her  seat ;  and 
selecting  those  chapters  most  appropriate  to  my  situation, 
read  them  in  a  beautiful  and  impressive  tone. 


CHAPTER    LXIII 

Pride  and  love  at  issue — The  latter  is  victorious — I  turn  Quaker, 
and  recommence  my  old  profession. 

IF  the  reader  will  recall  my  narrative  to  his  recollection,  he 
must  observe,  that  religion  had  had  hitherto  but  little  of  my 
thoughts.  I  had  lived  the  life  of  most  who  live  in  this  world  ; 
perhaps  not  quite  so  correct  in  morals  as  many  people,  for  my 
code  of  morality  was  suited  to  circumstances  ;  as  to  religion, 
I  had  none.  I  had  lived  in  the  world,  and  for  the  world.  I 
had  certainly  been  well  instructed  in  the  tenets  of  our  faith 
when  I  was  at  the  Asylum,  but  there,  as  in  most  other  schools, 
it  is  made  irksome,  as  a  task,  and  is  looked  upon  with  almost 
a  feeling  of  aversion.  No  proper  religious  sentiments  are, 
or  can  be,  inculcated  to  a  large  number  of  scholars  ;  it  is  the 
parent  alone  who  can  instil,  by  precept  and  example,  that  true 
sense  of  religion,  which  may  serve  as  a  guide  through  life.  I 
had  not  read  the  Bible  from  the  time  that  I  quitted  the 
Foundling  Hospital.  It  was  new  to  me,  and  when  I  now 
heard  read,  by  that  beautiful  creature,  passages  equally  beauti- 
ful, and  so  applicable  to  my  situation,  weakened  by  disease, 
and  humbled  in  adversity,  I  was  moved,  even  unto  tears. 

Susannah  closed  the  book  and  came  to  the  bedside.  I 
thanked  her :  she  perceived  my  emotion,  and  when  I  held 
out  my  hand  she  did  not  refuse  hers.  I  kissed  it,  and  it  was 
immediately  withdrawn,  and  she  left  the  room.  Shortly  after- 
wards Ephraim  made  his  appearance.  Cophagus  and  his 
wife  also  came  that  evening,  but  I  saw  no  more  of  Susannah 

301 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Temple  until  the  following  day,  when  I  again  requested  her  to 
read  to  me. 

I  will  not  detain  the  reader  by  an  account  of  my  recovery. 
In  three  weeks  I  was  able  to  leave  the  room  ;  during  that 
time,  I  had  become  very  intimate  with  the  whole  family,  and 
was  treated  as  if  I  belonged  to  it.  During  my  illness  I  had 
certainly  shown  more  sense  of  religion  than  I  had  ever  done 
before,  but  I  do  not  mean  to  say  that  I  was  really  religious. 
I  liked  to  hear  the  Bible  read  by  Susannah,  and  I  liked  to 
talk  with  her  upon  religious  subjects ;  but  had  Susannah 
been  an  ugly  old  woman,  I  very  much  doubt  if  I  should  have 
been  so  attentive.  It  was  her  extreme  beauty — her  modesty 
and  fervour,  which  so  became  her,  which  enchanted  me.  I 
felt  the  beauty  of  religion,  but  it  was  through  an  earthly  object ; 
it  was  beautiful  in  her.  She  looked  an  angel,  and  I  listened 
to  her  precepts  as  delivered  by  one.  Still,  whatever  may  be 
the  cause  by  which  a  person's  attention  can  be  directed  to  so 
important  a  subject,  so  generally  neglected,  whether  by  fear  of 
death,  or  by  love  towards  an  earthly  object,  the  advantages 
are  the  same ;  and  although  very  far  from  what  I  ought  to 
have  been,  I  certainly  was,  through  my  admiration  of  her,  a 
better  man. 

As  soon  as  I  was  on  the  sofa  wrapped  up  in  one  of  the 
dressing-gowns  of  Mr.  Cophagus,  he  told  me  that  the  clothes 
in  which  I  had  been  picked  up  were  all  in  tatters,  and  asked 
me  whether  I  would  like  to  have  others  made  according  to 
the  usual  fashion,  or  like  those  with  whom  I  should,  he  trusted, 
in  future  reside.  I  had  already  debated  this  matter  in  my 
mind.  Return  to  the  world  I  had  resolved  not  to  do  ;  to 
follow  up  the  object  of  my  search  appeared  to  me  only  to 
involve  me  in  difficulties ;  and  what  were  the  intentions  of 
Cophagus  with  regard  to  me,  I  knew  not.  I  was  hesitating, 
for  I  knew  not  what  answer  to  give,  when  I  perceived  the 
pensive,  deep-blue  eye  of  Susannah  fixed  upon  me,  watching 
attentively,  if  not  eagerly,  for  my  response. 

It  decided  the  point.  '  If,'  replied  I,  '  you  do  not  think 
that  I  should  disgrace  you,  I  should  wish  to  wear  the  dress  of 
the  Society  of  Friends,  although  not  yet  one  of  your  body.' 

'  But  soon  to  be,  I  trust,'  replied  Mrs.  Cophagus. 

'  Alas  ! '  replied  I,  *  I  am  an  outcast ;  ;  and  I  looked  at 
Susannah  Temple. 

302 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Not  so,  Japhet  Newland,'  replied  she,  mildly :  *  I  am 
pleased  that  thou  hast  of  thy  own  accord  rejected  vain  attire. 
I  trust  that  thou  wilt  not  find  that  thou  art  without  friends/ 


'  /  knew  not  what  answer  to  give. ' 

'While  I  am  with  you,'  replied  I,  addressing  myself  to 
them  all,  '  I  consider  it  my  duty  to  conform  to  your  manners 
in  every  way,  but  by  and  by,  when  I  resume  my  search ' 

303 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  And  why  shouldst  thou  resume  a  search  which  must 
prove  unavailing,  and  but  leads  thee  into  error  and  misfortune  ? 
I  am  but  young,  Japhet  Newland,  and  not  perhaps  so  able  to 
advise,  yet  doth  it  appear  to  me,  that  the  search  can  only  be 
availing  when  made  by  those  who  left  thee.  When  they  wish 
for  you  they  will  seek  thee,  but  thy  seeking  them  is  vain  and 
fruitless.' 

*  But,'  replied  I,  '  recollect  that  inquiries  have  already  been 
made  at  the  Foundling,  and  those  who  inquired  have  been 
sent  away  disappointed — they  will  inquire  no  more.' 

'And  is  a  parent's  love  so  trifling,  that  one  disappointment 
will  drive  him  from  seeking  of  his  child  ?  No,  no,  Japhet ; 
if  thou  art  yearned  for,  thou  wilt  be  found,  and  fresh  inquiries 
will  be  made ;  but  thy  search  is  unavailing,  and  already  hast 
thou  lost  much  time.5 

'True,  Susannah,  thy  advice  is  good,'  replied  Mrs.  Coph- 
agus  ;  '  in  following  a  shadow  Japhet  hath  much  neglected 
the  substance  ;  it  is  time  that  thou  shouldst  settle  thyself,  and 
earn  thy  livelihood.' 

'And  do  thy  duty  in  that  path  of  life  to  which  it  hath 
pleased  God  to  call  thee,'  continued  Susannah,  who  with  Mrs. 
Cophagus  walked  out  of  the  room. 

Cophagus  then  took  up  the  conversation,  and  pointing  out 
the  uselessness  of  my  roving  about,  and  the  propriety  of  my 
settling  in  life,  proposed  that  I  should  take  an  apothecary's 
shop,  for  which  he  would  furnish  the  means,  and  that  he  could 
insure  me  the  custom  of  the  whole  Society  of  Friends  in 
Reading,  which  was  very  large,  as  there  was  not  one  of  the 
sect  in  that  line  of  business.  '  Become  one  of  us,  Japhet — 
good  business — marry  by  and  by — happy  life — little  children — 
and  so  on.'  I  thought  of  Susannah,  and  was  silent.  Cophagus 
then  said,  I  had  better  reflect  upon  his  offer,  and  make  up  my 
determination.  If  that  did  not  suit  me,  he  would  still  give  me 
all  the  assistance  in  his  power. 

I  did  reflect  long  before  I  could  make  up  my  mind.  I 
was  still  worldly  inclined  ;  still  my  fancy  would  revel  in  the 
idea  of  finding  out  my  father  in  high  life,  and,  as  once  more 
appearing  as  a  star  of  fashion,  of  returning  with  interest  the 
contumely  I  had  lately  received,  and  reassuming  as  a  right  that 
position  in  society  which  I  had  held  under  false  colours. 

I  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  sinking  at  once  into  a  trades- 

3°4 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

man,  and  probably  ending  my  days  in  obscurity.  Pride  was 
still  my  ruling  passion.  Such  were  my  first  impulses,  and 
then  I  looked  upon  the  other  side  of  the  picture.  I  was 
without  the  means  necessary  to  support  myself;  I  could  not 
return  to  high  life  without  I  discovered  my  parents  in  the  first 
place,  and  in  the  second,  found  them  to  be  such  as  my  warm 
imagination  had  depicted.  I  had  no  chance  of  finding  them. 
I  had  already  been  long  seeking  in  vain.  I  had  been  twice 
taken  up  to  Bow  Street — nearly  lost  my  life  in  Ireland — had 
been  sentenced  to  death — had  been  insane,  and  recovered  by 
a  miracle,  and  all  in  prosecuting  this  useless  search.  All  this 
had  much  contributed  to  cure  me  of  the  monomania.  I 
agreed  with  Susannah  that  the  search  must  be  made  by  the 
other  parties,  and  not  by  me.  I  recalled  the  treatment  I  had 
received  from  the  world — the  contempt  with  which  I  had 
been  treated — the  heartlessness  of  high  life,  and  the  little 
chance  of  my  ever  again  being  admitted  into  fashionable 
society. 

I  placed  all  this  in  juxtaposition  with  the  kindness  of  those 
with  whom  I  now  resided — what  they  had  done  already  for 
me,  and  what  they  now  offered,  which  was  to  make  me 
independent  by  my  own  exertions.  I  weighed  all  in  my 
mind ;  was  still  undecided,  for  my  pride  still  carried  its 
weight ;  when  I  thought  of  the  pure,  beautiful  Susannah 
Temple,  and — my  decision  was  made.  I  would  not  lose  the 
substance  by  running  after  shadows. 

That  evening,  with  many  thanks,  I  accepted  the  kind 
offers  of  Mr.  Cophagus,  and  expressed  my  determination  of 
entering  into  the  Society  of  Friends. 

*  Thou  hast  chosen  wisely,'  said  Mrs.  Cophagus,  extending 
her  hand  to  me,  '  and  it  is  with  pleasure  that  we  shall  receive 
thee.' 

'  I  welcome  thee,  Japhet  Newland,'  said  Susannah,  also 
offering  her  hand,  'and  I  trust  that  thou  wilt  find  more 
happiness  among  those  with  whom  thou  art  about  to  sojourn, 
than  in  the  world  of  vanity  and  deceit,  in  which  thou  hast 
hitherto  played  thy  part.  No  longer  seek  an  earthly  father, 
who  hath  deserted  thee,  but  a  heavenly  Father,  who  will  not 
desert  thee  in  thy  afflictions.' 

'You  shall  direct  me  into  the  right  path,  Susannah,' 
replied  I. 

*  305 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  I  am  too  young  to  be  a  guide,  Japhet,'  replied  she, 
smiling ;  « but  not  too  young,  I  hope,  to  be  a  friend.' 

The  next  day  my  clothes  came  home,  and  I  put  them  on. 
I  looked  at  myself  in  the  glass,  and  was  anything  but 
pleased ;  but  as  my  head  was  shaved,  it  was  of  little  conse- 
quence what  I  wore  ;  so  I  consoled  myself.  Mr.  Cophagus 
sent  for  a  barber  and  ordered  me  a  wig,  which  was  to  be 
ready  in  a  few  days  ;  when  it  was  ready  I  put  it  on,  and 
altogether  did  not  dislike  my  appearance.  I  flattered  myself 
that  if  I  was  a  Quaker,  at  all  events  I  was  a  very  good-looking 
and  a  very  smart  one ;  and  when,  a  day  or  two  afterwards,  a 
reunion  of  Friends  took  place  at  Mr.  Cophagus's  house  to 
introduce  me  to  them,  I  perceived,  with  much  satisfaction, 
that  there  was  no  young  man  who  could  compete  with  me. 
After  this,  I  was  much  more  reconciled  to  my  transformation. 


CHAPTER    LXIV 

I  prosper  in  every  way,  and  become  reconciled  to  my  situation. 

MR.  COPHAGUS  was  not  idle.  In  a  few  weeks  he  had  rented 
a  shop  for  me,  and  furnished  it  much  better  than  his  own  in 
Smithfield ;  the  upper  part  of  the  house  was  let  off,  as  I  was 
to  reside  with  the  family.  When  it  was  ready,  I  went  over  it 
with  him,  and  was  satisfied  ;  all  I  wished  for  was  Timothy  as 
an  assistant,  but  that  wish  was  unavailing,  as  I  knew  not 
where  to  find  him. 

That  evening  I  observed  to  Mr.  Cophagus,  that  I  did  not 
much  like  putting  my  name  over  the  shop.  The  fact  was, 
that  my  pride  forbade  it,  and  I  could  not  bear  the  idea,  that 
Japhet  Newland,  at  whose  knock  every  aristocratic  door  had 
flown  open,  should  appear  in  gold  letters  above  a  shop-window. 
'  There  are  many  reasons  against  it,'  observed  I.  '  One  is, 
that  it  is  not  my  real  name — I  should  like  to  take  the  name 
of  Cophagus  ;  another  is,  that  the  name,  being  so  well  known, 
may  attract  those  who  formerly  knew  me,  and  I  should  not 
wish  that  they  should  come  in  and  mock  me  ;  another  is — 

4  Japhet  Newland,'  interrupted  Susannah,  with  more  severity 
than  I  ever  had  seen  in  her  sweet  countenance,  'do  not 

306 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

trouble  thyself  with  giving  thy  reasons,  seeing  thou  hast  given 
every  reason  but  the  right  one,  which  is,  that  thy  pride  revolts 
at  it.' 

'  I  was  about  to  observe,'  replied  I,  '  that  it  was  a  name 
that  sounded  of  mammon,  and  not  fitting  for  one  of  our 
persuasion.  But,  Susannah,  you  have  accused  me  of  pride, 
and  I  will  now  raise  no  further  objections.  Japhet  Newland  it 
shall  be,  and  let  us  speak  no  more  upon  the  subject.3 

*  If  I  have  wronged  thee,  Japhet,  much  do  I  crave  thy 
forgiveness,'  replied  Susannah.  '  But  it  is  God  alone  who 
knoweth  the  secrets  of  our  hearts.  I  was  presumptuous  ;  and 
you  must  pardon  me.' 

'  Susannah,  it  is  I  who  ought  to  plead  for  pardon  ;  you 
know  me  better  than  I  know  myself.  It  was  pride,  and 
nothing  but  pride — but  you  have  cured  me.' 

'  Truly  have  I  hopes  of  thee  now,  Japhet,'  replied  Susannah, 
smiling.  '  Those  who  confess  their  faults  will  soon  amend 
them  •  yet  I  do  think  there  is  some  reason  in  thy  observation, 
for  who  knoweth,  but  meeting  with  thy  former  associates, 
thou  mayst  not  be  tempted  into  falling  away  ?  Thou  mayst 
spell  thy  name  as  thou  listest ;  and,  peradventure,  it  would  be 
better  to  disguise  it.' 

So  agreed  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cophagus,  and  I  therefore  had  it 
written  Gnoiv-\and ;  and  having  engaged  a  person  of  the 
society,  strongly  recommended  to  me,  as  an  assistant,  I  took 
possession  of  my  shop,  and  was  very  soon  busy  in  making  up 
prescriptions,  and  dispensing  my  medicines  in  all  quarters  of 
the  good  town  of  Reading. 

And  I  was  happy.  I  had  enjoyment  during  the  day ;  my 
profession  was,  at  all  events,  liberal.  I  was  dressed  and 
lived  as  a  gentleman,  or  rather  I  should  say  respectably.  I 
was  earning  my  own  livelihood.  I  was  a  useful  member  of 
society,  and  when  I  retired  home  to  meals,  and  late  at  night, 
I  found,  that  if  Cophagus  and  his  wife  had  retired,  Susannah 
Temple  always  waited  up,  and  remained  with  me  a  few 
minutes.  I  had  never  been  in  love  until  I  had  fallen  in  with 
this  perfect  creature ;  but  my  love  for  her  was  not  the  love  of 
the  world  ;  I  could  not  so  depreciate  her — I  loved  her  as  a 
superior  being — I  loved  her  with  fear  and  trembling.  I  felt 
that  she  was  too  pure,  too  holy,  too  good  for  a  vain  worldly 
creature  like  myself.  I  felt  as  if  my  destiny  depended  upon 

307 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

her  and  her  fiat ;  that  if  she  favoured  me,  my  happiness  in 
this  world  and  in  the  next  were  secured  ;  that  if  she  rejected  me, 
I  was  cast  away  for  ever.  Such  was  my  feeling  for  Susannah 
Temple,  who,  perfect  as  she  was,  was  still  a  woman,  and 
perceived  her  power  over  me  ;  but  unlike  the  many  of  her 
sex,  exerted  that  power  only  to  lead  to  what  was  right. 
Insensibly  almost,  my  pride  was  quelled,  and  I  became 
humble  and  religiously  inclined.  Even  the  peculiarities  of 
the  sect,  their  meeting  at  their  places  of  worship,  their 
drawling,  and  their  quaint  manner  of  talking,  became  no 
longer  a  subject  of  dislike.  I  found  out  causes  and  good 
reasons  for  everything  which  before  appeared  strange — 
sermons  in  stones,  and  good  in  everything.  Months  passed 
away — my  business  prospered — I  had  nearly  repaid  the 
money  advanced  by  Mr.  Cophagus.  I  was  in  heart  and  soul 
a  Quaker,  and  I  entered  into  the  fraternity  with  a  feeling  that 
I  could  act  up  to  what  I  had  promised.  I  was  happy,  quite 
happy,  and  yet  I  had  never  received  from  Susannah  Temple 
any  further  than  the  proofs  of  sincere  friendship.  But  I  had 
much  of  her  society,  and  we  were  now  very,  very  intimate.  I 
found  out  what  warm,  what  devoted  feelings  were  concealed 
under  her  modest,  quiet  exterior — how  well  her  mind  was 
stored,  and  how  right  was  that  mind. 

Often  when  I  talked  over  past  events,  did  I  listen  to  her 
remarks,  all  tending  to  one  point,  morality  and  virtue  ;  often 
did  I  receive  from  her  at  first  a  severe,  but  latterly  a  kind 
rebuke,  when  my  discourse  was  light  and  frivolous  ;  but  when 
I  talked  of  merry  subjects  which  were  innocent,  what  could  be 
more  joyous  or  more  exhilarating  than  her  laugh — what  more 
intoxicating  than  her  sweet  smile,  when  she  approved  of  my 
sentiments  !  and  when  animated  by  the  subject,  what  could 
be  more  musical  or  more  impassioned  than  her  bursts  of 
eloquence,  which  were  invariably  followed  by  a  deep  blush, 
when  she  recollected  how  she  had  been  carried  away  by 
excitement. 

There  was  one  point  upon  which  I  congratulated  myself, 
which  was,  that  she  had  received  two  or  three  unexceptionable 
offers  of  marriage  during  the  six  months  that  I  had  been  in 
her  company,  and  refused  them.  At  the  end  of  that  period, 
thanks  to  the  assistance  I  received  from  the  Friends,  I  had 
paid  Mr.  Cophagus  all  the  money  which  he  had  advanced,  and 

308 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

found  myself  in  possession  of  a  flourishing  business,  and  inde- 
pendent. I  then  requested  that  I  might  be  allowed  to  pay  an 
annual  stipend  for  my  board  and  lodging,  commencing  from 
the  time  I  first  came  to  his  house.  Mr.  Cophagus  said  I  was 
right — the  terms  were  easily  arranged,  and  I  was  independent. 
Still  my  advances  with  Susannah  were  slow,  but  if  slow, 
they  were  sure.  One  day  I  observed  to  her,  how  happy  Mr. 
Cophagus  appeared  to  be  as  a  married  man  :  her  reply  was, 
'  He  is,  Japhet :  he  has  worked  hard  for  his  independence, 
and  he  is  now  reaping  the  fruits  of  his  industry.'  That  is  as 
much  as  to  say  that  I  must  do  the  same,  thought  I,  and  that 
I  have  no  business  to  propose  for  a  wife,  until  I  am  certain 
that  I  am  able  to  provide  for  her.  I  have  as  yet  laid  up 
nothing,  and  an  income  is  not  a  capital.  I  felt  that  whether 
a  party  interested  or  not,  she  was  right,  and  I  redoubled  my 
diligence. 


CHAPTER    LXV 

A  variety  of  the  Quaker  tribe — Who  had  a  curious  disintegration  of  mind 
and  body. 

I  WAS  not  yet  weaned  from  the  world,  but  I  was  fast  advanc- 
ing to  that  state,  when  a  very  smart  young  Quaker  came  on  a 
visit  to  Reading.  He  was  introduced  to  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Cophagus,  and  was  soon,  as  might  be  expected,  an  admirer  of 
Susannah,  but  he  received  no  encouragement.  He  was  an 
idle  person,  and  passed  much  of  his  time  sitting  in  my  shop, 
and  talking  with  me,  and  being  much  less  reserved  and  un- 
guarded than  the  generality  of  the  young  men  of  the  sect,  I 
gradually  became  intimate  with  him.  One  day  when  my 
assistant  was  out  he  said  to  me,  '  Friend  Gnow-land,  tell  me 
candidly,  hast  thou  ever  seen  my  face  before  ? ' 

« Not  that  I  can  recollect,  friend  Talbot.' 

*  Then  my  recollection  is  better  than  yours,  and  now  having 
obtained  thy  friendship  as  one  of  the  society,  I  will  remind 
thee  of  our  former  acquaintance.  When  thou  wert  Mr.  N-e-w- 
land,  walking  about  town  with  Major  Carbonnell,  I  was 
Lieutenant  Talbot,  of  the Dragoon  Guards.' 

309 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  was  dumb  with  astonishment,  and  I  stared  him  in  the 
face. 

'Yes,'  continued  he,  bursting  into  laughter,  'such  is  the 
fact.  You  have  thought,  perhaps,  that  you  were  the  only  man 
of  fashion  who  had  ever  been  transformed  into  a  Quaker ; 
now  you  behold  another,  so  no  longer  imagine  yourself  the 
Phcenix  of  your  tribe.' 

'  I  do  certainly  recollect  that  name,'  replied  I  ;  '  but 
although,  as  you  must  be  acquainted  with  my  history,  it  is 
very  easy  to  conceive  why  I  have  joined  the  society,  yet  upon 
what  grounds  you  can  have  so  done  is  to  me  inexplicable.' 

'  Newland,  it  certainly  does  require  explanation :  it  has 
been,  I  assert,  my  misfortune,  and  not  my  fault.  Not  that  I 
am  not  happy.  On  the  contrary,  I  feel  that  I  am  now  in  my 
proper  situation.  I  ought  to  have  been  born  of  Quaker 
parents — at  all  events,  I  was  born  a  Quaker  in  disposition  ; 
but  I  will  come  to-morrow  early,  and  then,  if  you  will  give 
your  man  something  to  do  out  of  the  way,  I  will  tell  you  my 
history.  I  know  that  you  will  keep  my  secret.' 

The  next  morning  he  came,  and  as  soon  as  we  were  alone 
he  imparted  to  me  what  follows. 

'  I  recollect  well,  Newland,  when  you  were  one  of  the 
leaders  of  fashion,  I  was  then  in  the  Dragoon  Guards,  and 
although  not  very  intimate  with  you,  had  the  honour  of  a 
recognition  when  we  met  at  parties.  I  cannot  help  laughing, 
upon  my  soul,  when  I  look  at  us  both  now  ;  but  never  mind. 
I  was  of  course  a  great  deal  with  my  regiment,  and  at  the 
club.  My  father,  as  you  may  not  perhaps  be  aware,  was 
highly  connected,  and  all  the  family  have  been  brought  up 
in  the  army  :  the  question  of  profession  has  never  been  mooted 
by  us  ;  and  every  Talbot  has  turned  out  a  soldier  as  naturally 
as  a  young  duck  takes  to  the  water.  Well,  I  entered  the 
army,  admired  my  uniform,  and  was  admired  by  the  young 
ladies.  Before  I  received  my  lieutenant's  commission,  my 
father,  the  old  gentleman,  died,  and  left  me  a  younger 
brother's  fortune,  of  four  hundred  per  annum ;  but,  as  my 
uncle  said,  "  It  was  quite  enough  for  a  Talbot,  who  would 
push  himself  forward  in  his  profession,  as  the  Talbots  had 
ever  done  before  him."  I  soon  found  out  that  my  income 
was  not  sufficient  to  enable  me  to  continue  in  the  Guards,  and 
my  uncle  was  very  anxious  that  I  should  exchange  into  a 

310 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

regiment  on  a  service.  I  therefore,  by  purchase,  obtained  a 
company  in  the  23rd,  ordered  out  to  reduce  the  French 
colonies  in  the  West  Indies  ;  and  I  sailed  with  all  the  ex- 
pectation of  covering  myself  with  as  much  glory  as  the  Talbots 
had  done  from  time  immemorial.  We  landed,  and  in  a  short 
time  the  bullets  and  grape  were  flying  in  all  directions,  and 
then  I  discovered,  what  I  declare  never  for  a  moment  came 
into  my  head  before,  to  wit — that  I  had  mistaken  my 
profession.' 

'How  do  you  mean,  Talbot  ? ' 

'  Mean  !  why,  that  I  was  deficient  in  a  certain  qualification, 
which  never  was  before  denied  to  a  Talbot — courage.' 

'  And  you  never  knew  that  before  ? ' 

'  Never,  upon  my  honour ;  my  mind  was  always  full  of 
courage.  In  my  mind's  eye  I  built  castles  of  feats  of  bravery 
which  should  eclipse  all  the  Talbots,  from  him  who  burnt  Joan 
of  Arc  down  to  the  present  day.  I  assure  you,  that  surprised 
as  other  people  were,  no  one  was  more  surprised  than  myself. 
Our  regiment  was  ordered  to  advance,  and  I  led  on  my 
company  ;  the  bullets  flew  like  hail.  I  tried  to  go  on,  but  I 
could  not ;  at  last,  notwithstanding  all  my  endeavours  to  the 
contrary,  I  fairly  took  to  my  heels.  I  was  met  by  the  com- 
manding officer — in  fact,  I  ran  right  against  him.  He  ordered 
me  back,  and  I  returned  to  my  regiment,  not  feeling  at  all 
afraid.  Again  I  was  in  the  fire,  again  I  resisted  the  impulse, 
but  it  was  of  no  use ;  and  at  last,  just  before  the  assault  took 
place,  I  ran  away  as  if  the  devil  was  after  me.  Wasn't  it  odd  ? ' 

'  Very  odd,  indeed,3  replied  I,  laughing. 

'  Yes,  but  you  do  not  exactly  understand  why  it  was  odd. 
You  know  what  philosophers  tell  you  about  volition  ;  and  that 
the  body  is  governed  by  the  mind,  consequently  obeys  it ; 
now,  you  see,  in  my  case,  it  was  exactly  reversed.  I  tell  you, 
that  it  is  a  fact,  that  in  mind  I  am  as  brave  as  any  man  in 
existence  ;  but  I  had  a  cowardly  carcass,  and  what  is  still 
worse,  it  proved  the  master  of  my  mind,  and  ran  away  with  it. 
I  had  no  mind  to  run  away  ;  on  the  contrary,  I  wished  to 
have  been  of  the  forlorn  hope,  and  had  volunteered,  but  was 
refused.  Surely,  if  I  had  not  courage  I  should  have  avoided 
such  a  post  of  danger.  Is  it  not  so  ? ' 

'  It  certainly  appears  strange,  that  you  should  volunteer  for 
the  forlorn  hope,  and  then  run  away.' 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

« That's  just  what  I  say.  I  have  the  soul  of  the  Talbots, 
but  a  body  which  don't  belong  to  the  family,  and  too  powerful 
for  the  soul.' 

'  So  it  appears.      Well,  go  on.' 

1  It  was  go  off,  instead  of  going  on.  I  tried  again  that 
day  to  mount  the  breach,  and  as  the  fire  was  over,  I  succeeded  ; 
but  there  was  a  mark  against  me,  and  it  was  intimated  that  I 
should  have  an  opportunity  of  redeeming  my  character.5 

1  Well  ? ' 

'There  was  a  fort  to  be  stormed  the  next  day,  and  I 
requested  to  lead  my  company  in  advance.  Surely  that  was 
no  proof  of  want  of  courage  ?  Permission  was  granted.  We 
were  warmly  received,  and  I  felt  that  my  legs  refused  to 
advance  :  so  what  did  I  do — I  tied  my  sash  round  my  thigh, 
and  telling  the  men  that  I  was  wounded,  requested  they  would 
carry  me  to  the  attack.  Surely  that  was  courage  ? ' 

*  Most  undoubtedly  so.      It  was  like  a  Talbot' 

1  We  were  at  the  foot  of  the  breach  ;  when  the  shot  flew 
about  me,  I  kicked  and  wrestled  so,  that  the  two  men  who 
carried  me  were  obliged  to  let  me  go,  and  my  rascally  body 
was  at  liberty.  I  say  unfortunately,  for  only  conceive,  if  they 
had  carried  me  wounded  up  the  breach,  what  an  heroic  act  it 
would  have  been  considered  on  my  part ;  but  fate  decided  it 
otherwise.  If  I  had  lain  still  when  they  dropped  me,  I  should 
have  done  well,  but  I  was  anxious  to  get  up  the  breach, 
that  is,  my  mind  was  so  bent ;  but  as  soon  as  I  got  on  my 
legs,  confound  them  if  they  didn't  run  away  with  me,  and  then 
I  was  found  half  a  mile  from  the  fort  with  a  pretended  wound. 
That  was  enough ;  I  had  a  hint  that  the  sooner  I  went 
home  the  better.  On  account  of  the  family  I  was  permitted 
to  sell  out,  and  then  I  walked  the  streets  as  a  private  gentle- 
man, but  no  one  would  speak  to  me.  I  argued  the  point  with 
several,  but  they  were  obstinate,  and  would  not  be  convinced ; 
they  said  that  it  was  no  use  talking  about  being  brave,  if  I  ran 
away.' 

1  They  were  not  philosophers,  Talbot.' 

'  No ;  they  could  not  comprehend  how  the  mind  and  the 
body  could  be  at  variance.  It  was  no  use  arguing — they 
would  have  it  that  the  movements  of  the  body  depended  upon 
the  mind,  and  that  I  had  made  a  mistake — and  that  I  was  a 
coward  in  soul  as  well  as  body.' 

312 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Well,  what  did  you  do  ?  ' 

*  Oh,  I  did  nothing  !  I  had  a  great  mind  to  knock  them 
down,  but  as  I  knew  my  body  would  not  assist  me,  I  thought 
it  better  to  leave  it  alone.  However,  they  taunted  me  so,  by 
calling  me  fighting  Tom,  that  my  uncle  shut  his  door  upon  me 
as  a  disgrace  to  the  family,  saying,  he  wished  the  first  bullet 
had  laid  me  dead — very  kind  of  him  ; — at  last  my  patience 
was  worn  out,  and  I  looked  about  to  find  whether  there  were 
not  some  people  who  did  not  consider  courage  as  a  sine  qua 
non.  I  found  that  the  Quakers'  tenets  were  against  fighting, 
and  therefore  courage  could  not  be  necessary,  so  I  have  joined 
them,  and  I  find  that,  if  not  a  good  soldier,  I  am,  at  all  events, 
a  very  respectable  Quaker  ;  and  now  you  have  the  whole  of 
my  story — and  tell  me  if  you  are  of  my  opinion.' 

'  Why,  really  it's  a  very  difficult  point  to  decide.  I  never 
heard  such  a  case  of  disintegration  before.  I  must  think 
upon  it.' 

'  Of  course,  you  will  not  say  a  word  about  it,  Newland.' 

'  Never  fear,  I  will  keep  your  secret,  Talbot.  How  long 
have  you  worn  the  dress  ? ' 

'  Oh,  more  than  a  year.  By  the  bye,  what  a  nice  young 
person  that  Susannah  Temple  is.  I've  a  great  mind  to  propose 
for  her.' 

'  But  you  must  first  ascertain  what  your  body  says  to  it, 
Talbot,'  replied  I  sternly.  '  I  allow  no  one  to  interfere  with 
me,  Quaker  or  not.' 

'  My  dear  fellow,  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  shall  think  no  more 
about  her,'  said  Talbot,  rising  up,  as  he  observed  that  I  looked 
very  fierce.  '  I  wish  you  a  good  morning.  I  leave  Reading 
to-morrow.  I  will  call  on  you,  and  say  good-bye,  if  I  can ' ; 
and  I  saw  no  more  of  friend  Talbot,  whose  mind  was  all 
courage,  but  whose  body  was  so  renegade. 


CHAPTER    LXVI 

I  fall  in  with  Timothy. 

ABOUT  a  month  after  this,  I  heard  a  sailor  with  one  leg,  and  a 
handful  of  ballads,  singing  in  a  most  lachrymal  tone, 

313 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Why,  what's  that  to  you  if  my  eyes  I'm  a  wiping? 
A  tear  is  a  pleasure,  d'ye  see,  in  its  way — 

Bless  your  honour,  shy  a  copper  to  Poor  Jack,  who's  lost  his 
leg  in  the  sarvice.  Thanky,  your  honour,'  and  he  continued, 

'  It's  nonsense  for  trifles,  I  own,  to  be  piping, 
But  they  who  can't  pity — why  I  pities  they. 
Says  the  Captain,  says  he,  I  shall  never  forget  it, 
Of  courage,  you  know,  boys,  the  true  from  the  sham. 

Back  to  your  maintop-sail,  your  worship,  for  half  a  minute, 
and  just  assist  a  poor  dismantled  craft,  who  has  been  riddled 
in  the  wars. — "  'Tis  a  furious  lion."  Long  life  to  your  honour 
— "  In  battle  so  let  it — " 

'Tis  a  furious  lion,  in  battle  so  let  it ; 
But  duty  appeased — but  duty  appeased — 

Buy  a  song,  young  woman,  to  sing  to  your  sweetheart,  while 
you  sit  on  his  knee  in  the  dog-watch — 

But  duty  appeased,  'tis  the  heart  of  a  lamb.' 

I  believe  there  are  few  people  who  do  not  take  a  strong 
interest  in  the  English  sailor,  particularly  in  one  who  has  been 
maimed  in  the  defence  of  his  country.  I  always  have  ;  and  as 
I  heard  the  poor  disabled  fellow  bawling  out  his  ditty,  certainly 
not  with  a  very  remarkable  voice  or  execution,  I  pulled  out  the 
drawer  behind  the  counter,  and  took  out  some  halfpence  to 
give  him.  When  I  caught  his  eye  I  beckoned  to  him,  and  he 
entered  the  shop.  c  Here,  my  good  fellow,'  said  I,  '  although  a 
man  of  peace  myself,  yet  I  feel  for  those  who  suffer  in  the 
wars '  ;  and  I  put  the  money  to  him. 

'  May  your  honour  never  know  a  banyan  day,'  replied  the 
sailor ;  { and  a  sickly  season  for  you,  into  the  bargain.' 

'  Nay,  friend,  that  is  not  a  kind  wish  to  others,'  replied  I. 

The  sailor  fixed  his  eyes  earnestly  upon  me,  as  if  in 
astonishment,  for,  until  I  had  answered,  he  had  not  looked  at 
me  particularly. 

'  What  are  you  looking  at  ? '  said  I. 

*  Good  heavens  ! '  exclaimed  he.      '  It  is — yet  it  cannot  be  ! ' 

1  Cannot  be  !  what,  friend  ? ' 

He  ran  out  of  the  door,  and  read  the  name  over  the  shop, 
and  then  came  in,  and  sank  upon  a  chair  outside  of  the 


He  Tan  out  of  the  door,  and  -read  the  name  over  the  shop. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

counter.  '  Japhet — I  have  found  you  at  last ! '  exclaimed  he 
faintly. 

'  Good  heaven  !  who  are  you  ? ' 

He  threw  off  his  hat,  with  false  ringlets  fastened  to  the  inside 
of  it,  and  I  beheld  Timothy.  In  a  moment  I  sprang  over  the 
counter,  and  was  in  his  arms.  *  Is  it  possible,"  exclaimed  I, 
after  a  short  silence  on  both  sides,  '  that  I  find  you  a  disabled 
sailor  ?  ' 

'Is  it  possible,  Japhet,'  replied  Timothy,  'that  I  find  you 
a  broad-brimmed  Quaker  ? ' 

'  Even  so,  Timothy.      I  am  really  and  truly  one.' 

*  Then  you  are  less  disguised  than  I  am,'  replied  Timothy, 
kicking  off  his  wooden  leg,  and  letting  down  his  own,  which 
had  been  tied  up  to  his  thigh,  and  concealed  in  his  wide  blue 
trousers.      '  I  am  no  more  a  sailor  than  you  are,  Japhet,  and 
since  you  left  me  have  never  yet  seen  salt  water,  which  I  talk 
and  sing  so  much  about.' 

'  Then  thou  hast  been  deceiving,  Timothy,  which  I  regret 
much.' 

'  Now  I  do  perceive  that  you  are  a  Quaker,'  replied  Tim  : 
1  but  do  not  blame  me  until  you  have  heard  my  story.  Thank 
God,  I  have  found  you  at  last.  But  tell  me,  Japhet,  you  will 
not  send  me  away — will  you  ?  If  your  dress  is  changed,  your 
heart  is  not.  Pray  answer  me,  before  I  say  anything  more. 
You  know  I  can  be  useful  here.' 

'  Indeed,  Timothy,  I  have  often  wished  for  you  since  I 
have  been  here,  and  it  will  be  your  own  fault  if  I  part  with 
you.  You  shall  assist  me  in  the  shop  ;  but  you  must  dress 
like  me.' 

'  Dress  like  you !  have  I  not  always  dressed  like  you  ? 
When  we  started  from  Cophagus's,  were  we  not  dressed 
much  alike  ?  did  we  not  wear  spangled  jackets  together  ? 
did  I  not  wear  your  livery,  and  belong  to  you  ?  I'll  put  on 
anything,  Japhet — but  we  must  not  part  again.' 

*  My   dear  Timothy,    I    trust   we  shall  not  :   but    I    expect 
my  assistant  here  soon,  and  do  not  wish  that  he  should  see 
you  in  that  garb.      Go  to  a  small  public-house  at  the  farther 
end    of  this   street,  and   when    you   see  me  pass,  come   out 
to  me,  and  we  will  walk   out  into  the  country,  and   consult 
together.' 

'  I  have  put  up  at  a   small  house  not  far  off,  and  have 
316 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

some   clothes  there ;    I    will   alter  my  dress   and   meet   you. 
God  bless  you,  Japhet.' 

Timothy  then  picked  up  his  ballads,  which  were  scattered 
on  the  floor,  put  up  his  leg,  and  putting  on  his  wooden 
stump,  hastened  away,  after  once  more  silently  pressing  my 
hand. 

In  half  an  hour  my  assistant  returned,  and  I  desired 
him  to  remain  in  the  shop,  as  I  was  going  out  on  business. 
I  then  walked  to  the  appointed  rendezvous,  and  was  soon 
joined  by  Tim,  who  had  discarded  his  sailor's  disguise, 
and  was  in  what  is  called  a  shabby  genteel  sort  of  dress. 
After  the  first  renewed  greeting,  I  requested  Tim  to  let  me 
know  what  had  occurred  to  him  since  our  separation. 

'  You  cannot  imagine,  Japhet,  what  my  feelings  were  when 
I  found,  by  your  note,  that  you  had  left  me.  I  had  perceived 
how  unhappy  you  had  been  for  a  long  while,  and  I  was 
equally  distressed,  although  I  knew  not  the  cause.  I  had 
no  idea,  until  I  got  your  letter,  that  you  had  lost  all  your 
money  ;  and  I  felt  it  more  unkind  of  you  to  leave  me  then, 
than  if  you  had  been  comfortable  and  independent.  As 
for  looking  after  you,  that  I  knew  would  be  useless ;  and 
I  immediately  went  to  Mr.  Masterton,  to  take  his  advice 
as  to  how  I  should  proceed.  Mr.  Masterton  had  received 
your  letter,  and  appeared  to  be  very  much  annoyed.  "  Very 
foolish  boy,"  said  he ;  "  but  there  is  nothing  that  can  be 
done  now.  He  is  mad,  and  that  is  all  that  can  be  said  in 
his  excuse.  You  must  do  as  he  tells  you,  I  suppose,  and 
try  the  best  for  yourself.  I  will  help  you  in  any  way  that 
I  can,  my  poor  fellow,"  said  he,  "so  don't  cry."  I  went 
back  to  the  house  and  collected  together  your  papers,  which 
I  sealed  up.  I  knew  that  the  house  was  to  be  given  up 
in  a  few  days.  I  sold  the  furniture,  and  made  the  best  I 
could  of  the  remainder  of  your  wardrobe,  and  other  things 
of  value  that  you  had  left ;  indeed,  everything,  with  the 
exception  of  the  dressing  -  case  and  pistols,  which  had ' 
belonged  to  Major  Carbonnell,  and  I  thought  you  might 
perhaps  some  day  like  to  have  them.' 

'  How  very  kind  of  you,  Timothy,  to  think  of  me  in  that 
way  !  I  shall  indeed  be  glad  ;  but  no — what  have  I  to  do 
with  pistols  or  silver  dressing-cases  now  ?  I  must  not  have 
them,  but  still  I  thank  you  all  the  same.' 

317 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  The  furniture  and  everything  else  fetched  .£430,  after 
all  expenses  were  paid.' 

'  I  am  glad  of  it,  Timothy,  for  your  sake ;  but  I  am  sorry, 
judging  by  your  present  plight,  that  it  appears  to  have  done 
you  but  little  good.' 

'  Because  I  did  not  make  use  of  it,  Japhet.  What  could 
I  do  with  all  that  money  ?  I  took  it  to  Mr.  Masterton, 
with  all  your  papers,  and  the  dressing-case  and  pistols: — 
he  has  it  now  ready  for  you  when  you  ask  for  it.  He  was 
very  kind  to  me,  and  offered  to  do  anything  for  me ;  but 
I  resolved  to  go  in  search  of  you.  I  had  more  money  in 
my  pocket  when  you  went  away  than  I  generally  have, 
and  with  the  surplus  of  what  you  left  for  the  bills,  I  had 
twelve  or  fourteen  pounds.  So  I  wished  Mr.  Masterton 
good-bye,  and  have  ever  since  been  on  my  adventures  in 
search  of  my  master.' 

*  Not  master,  Timothy,  say  rather  of  your  friend.' 

'  Well,  of  both  if  you  please,  Japhet ;  and  very  pretty 
adventures  I  have  had,  I  assure  you,  and  some  very  hair- 
breadth escapes." 

'  I  think,  when  we  compare  notes,  mine  will  be  found 
most  eventful,  Timothy ;  but  we  can  talk  of  them,  and 
compare  notes  another  time.  At  present,  whom  do  you 
think  I  am  residing  with  ? ' 

*  A  Quaker,  I  presume.' 

'  You  have  guessed  right  so  far ;  but  who  do  you  think 
that  Quaker  is  ? ' 

'  There  I'm  at  fault.' 

'  Mr.  Cophagus.' 

At  this  intelligence  Timothy  gave  a  leap  in  the  air,  turned 
round  on  his  heel,  and  tumbled  on  the  grass  in  a  fit  of 
immoderate  laughter. 

*  Cophagus  ! — a  Quaker  ! '   cried  he  at  last.      *  Oh  !   I  long 
to   see   him.      Snuffle,   snuffle — broad  brims  —  wide   skirts — 
and  so  on.      Capital ! ' 

'It  is  very  true,  Timothy,  but  you  must  not  mock  at 
the  persuasion.' 

« I  did  not  intend  it,  Japhet,  but  there  is  something  to 
me  so  ridiculous  in  the  idea.  But,'  continued  Timothy,  'is 
it  not  still  stranger,  that,  after  having  separated  so  many 
years,  we  should  all  meet  again — and  that  I  should  find 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Mr.  Cophagus  —  an  apothecary's  shop  —  you  dispensing 
medicines — and  I — as  I  hope  to  be — carrying  them  about 
as  I  did  before.  Well,  I  will  row  in  the  same  boat,  and  I 
will  be  a  Quaker  as  well  as  you  both.' 

'Well,  we  will  now  return,  and  I  will  take  you  to  Mr. 
Cophagus,  who  will,  I  am  sure,  be  glad  to  see  you.' 

'  First,  Japhet,  let  me  have  some  Quaker's  clothes  —  I 
should  prefer  it.' 

'You  shall  have  a  suit  of  mine,  Timothy,  since  you 
wish  it ;  but  recollect  it  is  not  at  all  necessary,  nor  indeed 
will  it  be  permitted  that  you  enter  into  the  sect  without 
preparatory  examination  as  to  your  fitness  for  admission.' 

I  then  went  to  the  shop,  and  sending  out  the  assistant, 
walked  home  and  took  out  a  worn  suit  of  clothes,  with 
which  I  hastened  to  Timothy.  He  put  them  on  in  the 
shop,  and  then  walking  behind  the  counter,  said,  'This  is 
my  place,  and  here  I  shall  remain  as  long  as  you  do.' 

'  I  hope  so,  Timothy :  as  for  the  one  who  is  with  me 
at  present,  I  can  easily  procure  him  other  employment :  and 
he  will  not  be  sorry  to  go,  for  he  is  a  married  man,  and 
does  not  like  the  confinement.' 

'  I  have  some  money,'  said  Timothy,  taking  out  of  his 
old  clothes  a  dirty  rag,  and  producing  nearly  twenty  pounds. 
'  I  am  well  off,  you  see.' 

'  You  are,  indeed,'  replied  I. 

'Yes,  there  is  nothing  like  being  a  sailor  with  one  leg, 
singing  ballads.  Do  you  know,  Japhet,  that  sometimes  I 
have  taken  more  than  a  pound  a  day  since  I  have  shammed 
the  sailor  ? ' 

'  Not  very  honestly,  Tim.' 

'  Perhaps  not,  Japhet,  but  it  is  very  strange,  and  yet  very 
true,  that  when  honest  I  could  make  nothing,  and  when  I 
deceived,  I  have  done  very  well.' 


CHAPTER    LXVII 

Timothy  commences  his  narrative  of  his  search  after  Japhet. 

I  COULD  not  help  calling  to  mind  that  the  same  consequences 
as  Timothy  related  in  the  last  chapter  had  occurred  to  me 

319 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

during  my  eventful  career ;  but  I  had  long  considered  that 
there  was  no  excuse  for  dishonesty,  and  that,  in  the  end, 
it  would  only  lead  to  exposure  and  disgrace.  I  went  home 
early  in  the  evening  to  introduce  Timothy  to  Mr.  Cophagus, 
who  received  him  with  great  kindness,  and  agreed  immediately 
that  he  ought  to  be  with  me  in  the  shop.  Timothy  paid  his 
respects  to  the  ladies,  and  then  went  down  with  Ephraim, 
who  took  him  under  his  protection.  In  a  few  days,  he 
was  as  established  with  us  as  if  he  had  been  living  with 
us  for  months.  I  had  some  trouble,  at  first,  in  checking  his 
vivacity  and  turn  for  ridicule ;  but  that  was  gradually  effected, 
and  I  found  him  not  only  a  great  acquisition,  but,  as  he 
always  was,  a  cheerful  and  affectionate  companion.  I  had, 
during  the  first  days  of  our  meeting,  recounted  my  adventures, 
and  made  many  inquiries  of  Timothy  relative  to  my  few 
friends.  He  told  me  that  from  Mr.  Masterton  he  had 
learnt  that  Lady  de  Clare  and  Fleta  had  called  upon  him 
very  much  afflicted  with  the  contents  of  my  letter  —  that 
Lord  Windermear  also  had  been  very  much  vexed  and 
annoyed  —  that  Mr.  Masterton  had  advised  him  to  obtain 
another  situation  as  a  valet,  which  he  had  refused,  and,  at 
the  same  time,  told  him  his  intention  of  searching  for  me. 
He  had  promised  Mr.  Masterton  to  let  him  know  if  he 
found  me,  and  then  bade  him  farewell. 

*  I  used  to  lie  in  bed,  Japhet,'  continued  Timothy,  '  and 
think  upon  the  best  method  of  proceeding.  At  last,  I  agreed 
to  myself,  that  to  look  for  you  as  you  looked  after  your  father 
would  be  a  wild-goose  chase,  and  that  my  money  would  soon 
be  gone  ;  so  I  reflected  whether  I  might  not  take  up  some 
roving  trade  which  would  support  me,  and,  at  the  same  time, 
enable  me  to  proceed  from  place  to  place.  What  do  you  think 
was  my  first  speculation  ?  Why,  I  saw  a  man  with  a  dog 
harnessed  in  a  little  cart,  crying  dog's  meat  and  cat's  meat, 
and  I  said  to  myself,  "  Now  there's  the  very  thing — there's  a 
profession — I  can  travel  and  earn  my  livelihood."  I  entered 
into  conversation  with  him,  as  he  stopped  at  a  low  public- 
house,  treating  him  to  a  pot  of  beer  ;  and  having  gained  all  I 
wanted  as  to  the  mysteries  of  the  profession,  I  called  for 
another  pot,  and  proposed  that  I  should  purchase  his  whole 
concern,  down  to  his  knife  and  apron.  The  fellow  agreed,  and 
after  a  good  deal  of  bargaining,  I  paid  him  three  guineas  for 

320 


JAPHET,   IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

the  set  out  or  set  up,  which  you  please.  He  asked  me  whether 
I  meant  to  hawk  in  London  or  not,  and  I  told  him  no,  that  I 
should  travel  the  country.  He  advised  the  western  road,  as 
there  were  more  populous  towns  in  it.  Well,  we  had  another 
pot  to  clench  the  bargain,  and  I  paid  down  the  money  and  took 
possession,  quite  delighted  with  my  new  occupation.  Away  I 
went  to  Brentford,  selling  a  bit  here  and  there  by  the  way, 
and  at  last  arrived  at  the  very  bench  where  we  had  sat  down 
together  and  eaten  our  meal.' 

'  It  is  strange  that  I  did  the  same,  and  a  very  unlucky 
bench  it  proved  to  me.' 

'  So  it  did  to  me,  as  you  shall  hear.  I  had  taken  up  my 
quarters  at  that  inn,  and  for  three  days  had  done  very  well  in 
Brentford.  On  the  third  evening  I  had  just  come  back,  it  was 
nearly  dusk,  and  I  took  my  seat  on  the  bench,  thinking  of  you. 
My  dog,  rather  tired,  was  lying  down  before  the  cart,  when  all 
of  a  sudden  I  heard  a  sharp  whistle.  The  dog  sprang  on  his 
legs  immediately,  and  ran  off  several  yards  before  I  could 
prevent  him.  The  whistle  was  repeated,  and  away  went  the 
dog  and  cart  like  lightning.  I  ran  as  fast  as  I  could,  but 
could  not  overtake  him  ;  and  I  perceived  that  his  old  master 
was  running  ahead  of  the  dog  as  hard  as  he  could,  and  this 
was  the  reason  why  the  dog  was  off.  Still  I  should,  I  think, 
have  overtaken  him  ;  but  an  old  woman  coming  out  of  a  door 
with  a  saucepan  to  pour  the  hot  water  into  the  gutter,  I 
knocked  her  down  and  tumbled  right  over  her  into  a  cellar 
without  steps.  There  I  was  ;  and  before  I  could  climb  out 
again,  man,  dog,  cart,  cat's  meat  and  dog's  meat,  had  all 
vanished,  and  I  have  never  seen  them  since.  The  rascal  got 
clear  off,  and  I  was  a  bankrupt.  So  much  for  my  first  set  up 
in  business.' 

'  You  forgot  to  purchase  the  good-will  when  you  made  your 
bargain,  Timothy,  for  the  stock-in-trade.' 

'  Very  true,  Japhet.  However,  after  receiving  a  very  fair 
share  of  abuse  from  the  old  woman,  and  a  plaster  of  hot  greens 
in  my  face — for  she  went  supperless  to  bed,  rather  than  not 
have  her  revenge — I  walked  back  to  the  inn,  and  sat  down 
in  the  tap.  The  two  men  next  to  me  were  hawkers  ;  one 
carried  a  large  pack  of  dimities  and  calicoes,  and  the  other  a 
box  full  of  combs,  needles,  tapes,  scissors,  knives,  and  mock- 
gold  trinkets.  I  entered  into  conversation  with  them,  and,  as 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  again  stood  treat,  I  soon  was  very  intimate.  They  told  me 
what  their  profits  were,  and  how  they  contrived  to  get  on,  and 
I  thought,  for  a  rambling  life,  it  was  by  no  means  an  unpleasant 
one  ;  so  having  obtained  all  the  information  I  required,  I  went 
back  to  town,  took  out  a  hawker's  license,  for  which  I  paid  two 
guineas,  and  purchasing  at  a  shop,  to  which  they  gave  me  a 


'  /  became  a  great  politician.1 

direction,  a  pretty  fair  quantity  of  articles  in  the  tape  and 
scissor  line,  off  I  set  once  more  on  my  travels.  I  took  the 
north  road  this  time,  and  picked  up  a  very  comfortable  sub- 
sistence, selling  my  goods  for  a  few  halfpence  here,  and  a  few 
halfpence  there,  at  the  cottages  as  I  passed  by  ;  but  I  soon 
found  out,  that  without  a  newspaper  I  was  not  a  confirmed 

322 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

hawker,  and  the  more  radical  the  newspaper  the  better.  A 
newspaper  will  pay  half  the  expenses  of  a  hawker,  if  he  can 
read.  At  every  house,  particularly  every  small  hedge  alehouse, 
he  is  received,  and  placed  in  the  best  corner  of  the  chimney, 
and  has  his  board  and  lodging,  with  the  exception  of  what  he 
drinks,  gratis,  if  he  will  pull  out  the  newspaper  and  read  it  to 
those  around  him  who  cannot  read,  particularly  if  he  can 
explain  what  is  unintelligible.  Now  I  became  a  great  poli- 
tician, and,  moreover,  a  great  radical,  for  such  were  the  politics 
of  all  the  lower  classes.  I  lived  well,  slept  well,  and  sold  my 
wares  very  fast.  I  did  not  take  more  than  three  shillings  in 
the  day,  yet,  as  two  out  of  the  three  were  clear  profit,  I  did 
pretty  well.  However,  a  little  accident  happened  which 
obliged  me  to  change  my  profession,  or  at  least  the  nature  of 
the  articles  which  I  dealt  in.3 

'  What  was  that  ? ' 

'  A  mere  trifle.  I  had  arrived  late  at  a  small  alehouse,  had 
put  up  my  pack,  which  was  in  a  painted  deal  box,  on  the  table 
in  the  tap-room,  and  was  very  busy,  after  reading  a  paragraph 
in  the  newspaper,  making  a  fine  speech,  which  I  always  found 
was  received  with  great  applause,  and  many  shakes  of  the 
hand,  as  a  prime  good  fellow — a  speech  about  community  of 
rights,  agrarian  division,  and  the  propriety  of  an  equal  dis- 
tribution of  property,  proving  that,  as  we  were  all  born  alike, 
no  one  had  a  right  to  have  more  property  than  his  neighbour. 
The  people  had  all  gathered  round  me,  applauding  violently, 
when  I  thought  I  might  as  well  look  after  my  pack,  which  had 
been  for  some  time  hidden  from  my  sight  by  the  crowd,  when,  to 
my  mortification,  I  found  out  that  my  earnest  assertions  on  the 
propriety  of  community  of  property  had  had  such  an  influence 
upon  some  of  my  listeners,  that  they  had  walked  off  with  my 
pack  and  its  contents.  Unfortunately,  I  had  deposited  in  my 
boxes  all  my  money,  considering  it  safer  there  than  in  my 
pockets,  and  had  nothing  left  but  about  seventeen  shillings  in 
silver,  which  I  had  received  within  the  last  three  days.  Every 
one  was  very  sorry,  but  no  one  knew  anything  about  it ;  and 
when  I  challenged  the  landlord  as  answerable,  he  called  me  a 
radical  blackguard,  and  turned  me  out  of  the  door.' 

'  If  you  had  looked  a  little  more  after  your  own  property, 
and  interfered  less  with  that  of  other  people,  you  would  have 
done  better,  Tim,'  observed  I,  laughing. 

323 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Very  true  ;  but,  at  all  events,  I  have  never  been  a  radical 
since,5  replied  Tim.  '  But  to  go  on.  I  walked  off  to  the 
nearest  town,  and  I  commenced  in  a  more  humble  way.  I 
purchased  a  basket,  and  then,  with  the  remainder  of  my 
money,  I  bought  the  commonest  crockery  ware,  such  as  basins, 
jugs,  mugs,  and  putting  them  on  my  head,  off  I  went  again 
upon  my  new  speculation.  I  wandered  about  with  my 
crockery,  but  it  was  hard  work.  I  could  not  reap  the  profits 
which  I  did  as  a  hawker  and  pedlar.  I  averaged,  however, 
from  seven  to  nine  shillings  a  week,  and  that  was  about 
sufficient  for  my  support.  I  went  down  into  as  many  kitchens 
as  would  have  sufficed  to  have  found  a  dozen  mothers,  sup- 
posing mine  to  be  a  cook ;  but  I  did  not  see  any  one  who  was 
at  all  like  me.  Sometimes  a  cook  replaced  a  basin  she  had 
broken,  by  giving  me  as  much  meat  as  had  cost  her  mistress 
five  shillings,  and  thus  avoided  a  scolding,  for  an  article  which 
was  worth  only  twopence.  At  other  times,  a  cottager  would 
give  me  a  lodging,  and  would  consider  himself  rewarded  with 
a  mug  that  only  cost  me  one  penny.  I  was  more  than  three 
months  employed  carrying  crockery  in  every  direction,  and 
never,  during  the  whole  time,  broke  one  article,  until  one  day, 
as  I  passed  through  Eton,  there  was  a  regular  smash  of  the 
whole  concern.' 

'  Indeed,  how  was  that  ? ' 

'  I  met  about  a  dozen  of  the  Eton  boys,  and  they  proposed 
a  cockshy,  as  they  called  it ;  that  is,  I  was  to  place  my  articles 
on  the  top  of  a  post,  and  they  were  to  throw  stones  at  them 
at  a  certain  distance,  paying  me  a  certain  sum  for  each  throw. 
Well,  this  I  thought  a  very  good  bargain,  so  I  put  up  a  mug 
(worth  one  penny)  at  one  penny  a  throw.  It  was  knocked 
down  at  the  second  shot,  so  it  was  just  as  well  to  put  the  full 
price  upon  them  at  once,  they  were  such  remarkable  good 
aimers  at  anything.  Each  boy  had  a  stick,  upon  which  I 
notched  off  their  throws,  and  how  much  they  would  have  to 
pay  when  all  was  over.  One  article  after  another  was  put  on 
the  post  until  my  basket  was  empty,  and  then  I  wanted  to 
settle  with  them  ;  but  as  soon  as  I  talked  about  that,  they  all 
burst  out  into  a  loud  laugh,  and  took  to  their  heels.  I  chased 
them,  but  one  might  as  well  have  chased  eels.  If  I  got  hold 
of  one,  the  others  pulled  me  behind  until  he  escaped,  and  at 
last  they  were  all  off,  and  I  had  nothing  left.' 

324 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Not  your  basket  ? ' 

'  No,  not  even  that  ;  for  while  I  was  busy  after  some  that 
ran  one  way,  the  others  kicked  my  basket  before  them  like  a 
foot-ball,  until  it  was  fairly  out  of  sight.  I  had  only  eight- 
pence  in  my  pocket,  so  you  perceive,  Japhet,  how  I  was  going 
down  in  the  world.' 

'  You  were  indeed,  Tim.' 


CHAPTER   LXVIII 

Timothy  finishes  his  narrative. 

'  WELL,  I  walked  away,  cursing  all  the  Eton  boys  and  all 
their  tutors,  who  did  not  teach  them  honesty  as  well  as  Latin 
and  Greek,  and  put  up  at  a  very  humble  sort  of  abode,  where 
they  sold  small  beer,  and  gave  beds  at  twopence  per  night, 
and  I  may  add,  with  plenty  of  fleas  in  the  bargain.  There  I 
fell  in  with  some  ballad -singers  and  mumpers,  who  were 
making  very  merry,  and  who  asked  me  what  was  the  matter. 
I  told  them  how  I  had  been  treated,  and  they  laughed  at  me, 
but  gave  me  some  supper,  so  I  forgave  them.  An  old  man, 
who  governed  the  party,  then  asked  me  whether  I  had  any 
money.  I  produced  my  enormous  capital  of  eight -pence. 
"  Quite  enough,  if  you  are  clever,"  said  he  ;  "  quite  enough — 
many  a  man  with  half  that  sum  has  ended  in  rolling  in  his 
carriage.  A  man  with  thousands  has  only  the  advance  of  you 
a  few  years.  You  will  pay  for  your  lodging  and  then  spend 
this  sixpence  in  matches,  and  hawk  them  about  the  town.  If 
you  are  lucky,  it  will  be  a  shilling  by  to-morrow  night. 
Besides,  you  go  down  into  areas,  and  sometimes  enter  a 
kitchen,  when  the  cook  is  above  stairs.  There  are  plenty  of 
things  to  be  picked  up."  "  But  I  am  not  dishonest,"  said  I. 
"  Well,  then,  every  man  to  his  liking  ;  only  if  you  were,  you 
would  ride  in  your  own  coach  the  sooner."  "  And  suppose  I 
should  lose  all  this,  or  none  would  buy  my  matches,  what 
then?"  replied  I;  "I  shall  starve."  "Starve — no,  no — no 
one  starves  in  this  country  ;  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  get  into 
gaol — committed  for  a  month — you  will  live  better  perhaps 
than  you  ever  did  before.  I  have  been  in  every  gaol  in 

325 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

England,  and  I  know  the  good  ones,  for  even  in  gaols  there  is 
a  great  difference.  Now  the  one  in  this  town  is  one  of  the 
best  in  all  England,  and  I  patronises  it  during  the  winter." 
I  was  much  amused  with  the  discourse  of  this  mumper,  who 
appeared  to  be  one  of  the  merriest  old  vagabonds  in  England. 
I  took  his  advice,  bought  six  pennyworth  of  matches,  and 
commenced  my  new  vagrant  speculation. 

'  The  first  day  I  picked  up  threepence,  for  one  quarter  of 
my  stock,  and  returned  to  the  same  place  where  I  had  slept 
the  night  before,  but  the  fraternity  had  quitted  on  an  expedi- 
tion. I  spent  my  twopence  in  bread  and  cheese,  and  paid 
one  penny  for  my  lodging,  and  again  I  started  the  next 
morning,  but  I  was  very  unsuccessful ;  nobody  appeared  to 
want  matches  that  day ;  and  after  walking  from  seven  o'clock 
in  the  morning,  to  past  seven  in  the  evening,  without  selling 
one  farthing's  worth,  I  sat  down  at  the  porch  of  a  chapel, 
quite  tired  and  worn  out.  At  last  I  fell  asleep,  and  how  do 
you  think  I  was  awoke  ?  by  a  strong  sense  of  suffocation,  and 
up  I  sprang,  coughing,  and  nearly  choked,  surrounded  with 
smoke.  Some  mischievous  boys,  perceiving  that  I  was  fast 
asleep,  had  set  fire  to  my  matches,  as  I  held  them  in  my 
hand  between  my  legs,  and  I  did  not  wake  until  my  fingers 
were  severely  burnt.  There  was  an  end  of  my  speculation  in 
matches,  because  there  was  an  end  of  all  my  capital.' 

'  My  poor  Timothy,  I  really  feel  for  you.' 

'  Not  at  all,  my  dear  Japhet  ;  I  never,  in  all  my  distress, 
was  sentenced  to  execution — my  miseries  were  trifles,  to  be 
laughed  at.  However,  I  felt  very  miserable  at  the  time,  and 
walked  off,  thinking  about  the  propriety  of  getting  into  gaol 
as  soon  as  I  could,  for  the  beggar  had  strongly  recommended 
it.  I  was  at  the  outskirts  of  the  town,  when  I  perceived  two 
men  tussling  with  one  another,  and  I  walked  towards  them. 
"  I  says,"  says  one,  who  appeared  to  be  a  constable,  "  you 
must  come  along  with  I.  Don't  you  see  that  ere  board  ?  All 
wagrants  shall  be  taken  up,  and  dealt  with  according  to  la" 
"  Now  may  the  devil  hold  you  in  his  claws,  you  old  psalm- 
singing  thief — an't  I  a  sailor — and  an't  I  a  wagrant  by  pro- 
fession, and  all  according  to  law?"  "That  won't  do,"  says 
the  other  ;  "  I  commands  you,  in  the  king's  name,  to  let  me 
take  you  to  prison,  and  I  commands  you  also,  young  man," 
says  he — for  I  had  walked  up  to  them — "  I  commands  you,  as 

326 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

a  lawful  subject,  to  assist  me."  "  What  will  you  give  the  poor 
fellow  for  his  trouble  ?"  said  the  sailor.  "  It's  his  duty,  as  a 
lawful  subject,  and  I'll  give  him  nothing  ;  but  I'll  put  him  in 
prison  if  he  don't."  "  Then,  you  old  Rhinoceros,  I'll  give  him 
five  shillings  if  he'll  help  me,  and  so  now  he  may  take  his 
choice."  At  all  events,  thought  I,  this  will  turn  out  lucky  one 
way  or  the  other  ;  but  I  will  support  the  man  who  is  most 
generous  ;  so  I  went  up  to  the  constable,  who  was  a  burly 
sort  of  a  fellow,  and  tripped  ,wp  his  heels,  and  down  he  came 
on  the  back  of  his  head.  You  know  my  old  trick,  Japhet  ? ' 

'Yes  ;   I  never  knew  you  fail  at  that.' 

'"Well,"  the  sailor  says  to  me,  "I've  a  notion  you've 
damaged  his  upper  works,  so  let  us  start  off,  and  clap  on  all 
sail  for  the  next  town.  I  know  where  to  drop  an  anchor. 
Come  along  with  me,  and  as  long  as  I've  a  shot  in  the  locker, 
d — n  me  if  I  won't  share  it  with  one  who  has  proved  a  friend 
in  need."  The  constable  did  not  come  to  his  senses  ;  he  was 
very  much  stunned,  but  we  loosened  his  neckcloth,  and  left 
him  there,  and  started  off  as  fast  as  we  could.  My  new 
companion,  who  had  a  wooden  leg,  stopped  by  a  gate,  and 
clambered  over  it.  "  We  must  lose  no  time,"  said  he  ;  "  and 
I  may  just  as  well  have  the  benefit  of  both  legs."  So  saying, 
he  took  off  his  wooden  stump,  and  let  down  his  real  leg,  which 
was  fixed  up  just  as  you  saw  mine.  I  made  no  comments  ; 
but  off  we  set,  and  at  a  good  round  pace  gained  a  village 
about  five  miles  distant.  "  Here  we  will  put  up  for  the  night ; 
but  they  will  look  for  us  to-morrow  at  daylight,  or  a  little  after, 
therefore  we  must  be  starting  early.  I  know  the  law  beggars 
well ;  they  won't  turn  out  afore  sunrise."  He  stopped  at  a 
paltry  alehouse,  where  we  were  admitted,  and  soon  were  busy 
with  a  much  better  supper  than  I  had  ever  imagined  they 
could  have  produced  ;  but  my  new  friend  ordered  right  and 
left,  with  a  tone  of  authority,  and  everybody  in  the  house 
appeared  at  his  beck  and  command.  After  a  couple  of  glasses 
of  grog,  we  retired  to  our  beds. 

'  The  next  morning  we  started  before  break  of  day,  on  our 
road  to  another  town,  where  my  companion  said  the  con- 
stables would  never  take  the  trouble  to  come  after  him.  On 
our  way  he  questioned  me  as  to  my  mode  of  getting  my 
livelihood,  and  I  narrated  how  unfortunate  I  had  been. 
"  One  good  turn  deserves  another,"  replied  the  sailor  ;  "  and 

327 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

now  I'll  set  you  up  in  trade.  Can  you  sing  ?  Have  you 
anything  of  a  voice  ?  "  "I  can't  say  that  I  have,"  replied  I. 
"  I  don't  mean  whether  you  can  sing  in  tune,  or  have  a  good 
voice,  that's  no  consequence  ;  all  I  want  to  know  is,  have  you 
a  good  loud  one  ?  "  "  Loud  enough,  if  that's  all."  "  That's 
all  that's  requisite  ;  so  long  as  you  can  make  yourself  heard — 
you  may  then  howl  like  a  jackal,  or  bellow  like  a  mad  buffalo, 
no  matter  which — as  many  pay  us  for  to  get  rid  of  us,  as  out 
of  charity  ;  and  so  long  as  the  money  comes,  what's  the  odds  ? 
Why,  I  once  knew  an  old  chap,  who  could  only  play  one  tune 
on  the  clarionet,  and  that  tune  out  of  all  tune,  who  made  his 
fortune  in  six  or  seven  streets,  for  every  one  gave  him  money, 
and  told  him  to  go  away.  When  he  found  out  that,  he  came 
every  morning  as  regular  as  clock-work.  Now  there  was  one 
of  the  streets  which  was  chiefly  occupied  by  music-sellers  and 
Italian  singers — for  them  foreigners  always  herd  together — 
and  this  tune,  '  which  the  old  cow  died  of,'  as  the  saying  is, 
used  to  be  their  horror,  and  out  came  the  halfpence  to  send 
him  away.  There  was  a  sort  of  club  also  in  that  street,  of 
larking  sort  of  young  men  ;  and  when  they  perceived  that  the 
others  gave  the  old  man  money  to  get  rid  of  his  squeaking, 
they  sent  him  out  money,  with  orders  to  stay  and  play  to 
them,  so  then  the  others  sent  out  more  for  him  to  go  away, 
and  between  the  two,  the  old  fellow  brought  home  more  money 
than  all  the  cadgers  and  mumpers  in  the  district.  Now  if  you 
have  a  loud  voice,  I  can  provide  you  with  all  the  rest."  "  Do 
you  gain  your  livelihood  by  that  ?"  "To  be  sure  I  do  ;  and 
I  can  tell  you,  that  of  all  the  trades  going,  there  is  none  equal 
to  it.  You  see,  my  hearty,  I  have  been  on  board  of  a  man-of- 
war — not  that  I'm  a  sailor,  or  was  ever  bred  to  the  sea — but  I 
was  shipped  as  a  landsman,  and  did  duty  in  the  waist  and 
afterguard.  I  know  little  or  nothing  of  my  duty  as  a  seaman, 
nor  was  it  required  in  the  station  I  was  in,  so  I  never  learnt, 
although  I  was  four  years  on  board  ;  all  I  learnt  was  the  lingo 
and  slang — and  that  you  must  contrive  to  learn  from  me.  I 
bolted,  and  made  my  way  good  to  Lunnun,  but  I  should  soon 
have  been  picked  up  and  put  on  board  the  Tender  again,  if  I 
hadn't  got  this  wooden  stump  made,  which  I  now  carry  in  my 
hand.  I  had  plenty  of  songs,  and  I  commenced  my  profession, 
and  a  real  good  un  it  is,  I  can  tell  you.  Why,  do  you  know, 
that  a'ter  a  good  victory,  I  have  sometimes  picked  up  as  much 

3*8 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

as  two  pounds  a  day,  for  weeks  running ;  as  it  is,  I  averages 
from  fifteen  shillings  to  a  pound.  Now,  as  you  helped  me 
away  from  that  land-shark,  who  would  soon  have  found  out 
that  I  had  two  legs,  and  have  put  me  into  limbo  as  an 
impostor,  I  will  teach  you  to  arn  your  livelihood  after  my 
fashion.  You  shall  work  with  me  until  you  are  fit  to  start 
alone,  and  then  there's  plenty  of  room  in  England  for  both  of 
us  ;  but  mind,  never  tell  any  one  what  you  pick  up,  or  eveiy 
mumper  in  the  island  will  put  on  a  suit  of  sailor's  clothes,  and 
the  thing  will  be  blown  upon."  Of  course,  this  was  too  good 
an  offer  to  be  rejected,  and  I  joyfully  acceded.  At  first,  I 
worked  with  him  as  having  only  one  arm,  the  other  being  tied 
down  to  my  side,  and  my  jacket  sleeve  hanging  loose  and 
empty,  and  we  roared  away  right  and  left,  so  as  to  bring  down 
a  shower  of  coppers  wherever  we  went.  In  about  three  weeks 
my  friend  thought  I  was  able  to  start  by  myself;  and  giving 
me  half  of  the  ballads,  and  five  shillings  to  start  with,  I  shook 
hands  and  parted  with,  next  to  you,  the  best  friend  that  I 
certainly  ever  had.  Ever  since  I  have  been  crossing  the 
country  in  every  direction,  with  plenty  of  money  in  my  pocket, 
and  always  with  one  eye  looking  sharp  out  for  you.  My 
beautiful  voice  fortunately  attracted  your  attention,  and  here  I 
am,  and  at  an  end  of  my  history ;  but  if  ever  I  am  away  from 
you,  and  in  distress  again,  depend  upon  it  I  shall  take  to  my 
wooden  leg  and  ballads  for  my  support." 

Such  were  the  adventures  of  Timothy,  who  was  meta- 
morphosed into  a  precise  Quaker.  '  I  do  not  like  the  idea  of 
your  taking  up  a  system  of  deceit,  Timothy.  It  may  so 
happen — for  who  knows  what  may  occur? — that  you  may 
again  be  thrown  upon  your  own  resources.  Now,  would  it 
not  be  better  that  you  should  obtain  a  more  intimate  knowledge 
of  the  profession  which  we  are  now  in,  which  is  liberal,  and 
equally  profitable  ?  By  attention  and  study  you  will  be  able 
to  dispense  medicines  and  make  up  prescriptions  as  well  as 
myself,  and  who  knows  but  that  some  day  you  may  be  the 
owner  of  a  shop  like  this  ? ' 

'  Verily,  verily,  thy  words  do  savour  of  much  wisdom,' 
replied  Tim,  in  a  grave  voice ;  '  and  I  will  even  so  follow  thy 
advice.' 


329 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER    LXIX 

I  am  unsettled  by  unexpected  intelligence,  and  again  yearn  after  the 
world  of  fashion. 

I  KNEW  that  he  was  mocking  me  in  this  reply,  but  I  paid  no 
attention  to  that ;  I  was  satisfied  that  he  consented.  I  now 
made  him  assist  me,  and  under  my  directions  he  made  up  the 
prescriptions.  I  explained  to  him  the  nature  of  every  medi- 
cine ;  and  I  made  him  read  many  books  of  physic  and 
surgery.  In  short,  after  two  or  three  months,  I  could  trust  to 
Timothy  as  well  as  if  I  were  in  the  shop  myself ;  and  having 
an  errand  boy,  I  had  much  more  leisure,  and  I  left  him  in 
charge  after  dinner.  The  business  prospered,  and  I  was 
laying  up  money.  My  leisure  time,  I  hardly  need  say,  was 
spent  with  Mr.  Cophagus  and  his  family,  and  my  attachment 
to  Susannah  Temple  increased  every  day.  Indeed,  both  Mr. 
and  Mrs.  Cophagus  considered  that  it  was  to  be  a  match,  and 
often  joked  with  me  when  Susannah  was  not  present.  With 
respect  to  Susannah,  I  could  not  perceive  that  I  was  farther 
advanced  in  her  affections  than  after  I  had  known  her  two 
months.  She  was  always  kind  and  considerate,  evidently 
interested  in  my  welfare,  always  checking  in  me  anything  like 
levity — frank  and  confiding  in  her  opinions — and  charitable  to 
all,  as  I  thought,  except  to  me.  But  I  made  no  advance  that 
I  could  perceive.  The  fact  was,  that  I  dared  not  speak  to 
her  as  I  might  have  done  to  another  who  was  not  so  perfect. 
And  yet  she  smiled,  as  I  thought,  more  kindly  when  I 
returned  than  at  other  times,  and  never  appeared  to  be  tired 
of  my  company.  If  I  did  sometimes  mention  the  marriage  of 
another,  or  attentions  paid  which  would,  in  all  probability,  end 
in  marriage,  it  would  create  no  confusion  or  blushing  on  her 
part ;  she  would  talk  over  that  subject  as  composedly  as  any 
other.  I  was  puzzled  ;  and  I  had  been  a  year  and  nine  months 
constantly  in  her  company,  and  had  never  dared  to  tell  her 
that  I  loved  her.  But  one  day  Mr.  Cophagus  brought  up  the 
subject  when  we  were  alone.  He  commenced  by  stating  how 
happy  he  had  been  as  a  married  man  ;  that  he  had  given  up 

33° 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

all  hopes  of  a  family,  and  that  he  should  like  to  see  Susannah 
Temple,  his  sister-in-law,  well  married,  that  he  might  leave  his 
property  to  her  children  ;  and  then  he  put  the  very  pertinent 
question — 'Japhet — verily  —  thou  hast  done  well  —  good 
business — money  coming  in  fast  —  settle,  Japhet — marry — 
have  children — and  so  on.  Susannah — nice  girl — good  wife 
— pop  question — all  right  —  sly  puss — won't  say  no — um — 
what  d'ye  say  ? — and  so  on.'  I  replied  that  I  was  very  much 
attached  to  Susannah ;  but  that  I  was  afraid  that  the  attach- 
ment was  not  mutual,  and  therefore  hesitated  to  propose. 
Cophagus  then  said  that  he  would  make  his  wife  sound  his 
sister,  and  let  me  know  the  result. 

This  was  in  the  morning  just  before  I  was  about  to  walk 
over  to  the  shop,  and  I  left  the  house  in  a  state  of  anxiety  and 
suspense.  When  I  arrived  at  the  shop,  I  found  Tim  there  as 
usual  ;  but  the  colour  in  his  face  was  heightened  as  he  said  to 
me,  '  Read  this,  Japhet,'  and  handed  to  me  the  Reading 
Mercury.  I  read  an  advertisement  as  follows  : — 

*  If  Japhet  Newland,  who  was  left  at  the  Foundling  Asylum, 
and  was  afterwards  for  some  time  in  London,  will  call  at  No. 
1 6  Throgmorton  Court,  Minories,  he  will  hear  of  something 
very  much  to  his  advantage,  and  will  discover  that  of  which 
he  has  been  so  long  in  search.      Should  this  reach  his  eye,  he 
is  requested  to  write  immediately  to  the  above  address,  with 
full  particulars  of  his  situation.      Should  any  one  who  reads 
this  be  able  to  give  any  information  relative  to  the  said  J.  N., 
he  will  be  liberally  rewarded.' 

I  sank  down  on  the  chair.  '  Merciful  Heaven  !  this  can 
be  no  mistake — "he  will  discover  the  object  of  his  search." 
Timothy,  my  dear  Timothy,  I  have  at  last  found  out  my 
father.' 

'  So  I  should  imagine,  my  dear  Japhet,'  replied  Timothy, 
'  and  I  trust  it  will  not  prove  a  disappointment.' 

'They  never  would  be  so  cruel,  Timothy,'  replied  I. 

*  But  still  it  is  evident  that  Mr.  Masterton  is  concerned  in 
it,'  observed  Timothy. 

'  Why  so  ? '  inquired  I. 

*  How  otherwise   should   it   appear  in   the  Reading  news- 
paper ?     He  must  have  examined  the  post-mark  of  my  letter.' 

331 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

To  explain  this,  I  must  remind  the  reader  that  Timothy 
had  promised  to  write  to  Mr.  Masterton  when  he  found  me  ; 
and  he  requested  my  permission  shortly  after  we  had  met 
again.  I  consented  to  his  keeping  his  word,  but  restricted 
him  to  saying  any  more  than  '  that  he  had  found  me,  and  that 
I  was  well  and  happy.'  There  was  no  address  in  the  letter  as 
a  clue  to  Mr.  Masterton  as  to  where  I  might  be,  and  it  could 
only  have  been  from  the  post-mark  that  he  could  have  formed 
any  idea.  Timothy's  surmise  was  therefore  very  probable  ;  but 
I  would  not  believe  that  Mr.  Masterton  would  consent  to  the 
insertion  of  that  portion  of  the  advertisement,  if  there  was  no 
foundation  for  it. 

*  What  will  you  do,  Japhet  ? ' 

1  Do,'  replied  I,  recovering  from  my  reverie,  for  the 
information  had  again  roused  up  all  my  dormant  feelings — 
'  Do,'  replied  I,  '  why,  I  shall  set  off  for  town  this  very 
morning.' 

1  In  that  dress,  Japhet  ? ' 

'  I  suppose  I  must/  replied  I,  *  for  I  have  no  time  to 
procure  another'  ;  and  all  my  former  ideas  of  fashion  and 
appearance  were  roused,  and  in  full  activity — my  pride 
recovered  its  ascendency. 

1  Well,'  replied  Timothy,  '  I  hope  you  will  find  your  father 
all  that  you  could  wish.' 

'  I'm  sure  of  it,  Tim — I'm  sure  of  it,'  replied  I  ;  *  you  must 
run  and  take  a  place  in  the  first  coach.' 

*  But   you    are    not    going   without   seeing    Mr.    and    Mrs. 

Cophagus,  and Miss   Temple,'  continued  Tim,  laying  an 

emphasis  upon  the  latter  name. 

'  Of  course  not,'  replied  I,  colouring  deeply.  '  I  will  go  at 
once.  Give  me  the  newspaper,  Tim.' 

I  took  the  newspaper,  and  hastened  to  the  house  of  Mr. 
Cophagus.  I  found  them  all  three  sitting  in  the  breakfast 
parlour,  Mr.  Cophagus,  as  usual,  reading,  with  his  spectacles 
on  his  nose,  and  the  ladies  at  work.  'What  is  the  matter, 
friend  Japhet?'  exclaimed  Mr.  Cophagus,  as  I  burst  into  the 
room,  my  countenance  lighted  up  with  excitement.  '  Read 
that,  sir,'  said  I  to  Mr.  Cophagus.  Mr.  Cophagus  read  it. 
'  Hum — bad  news — lose  Japhet — man  of  fashion — and  so  on,' 
said  Cophagus,  pointing  out  the  paragraph  to  his  wife,  as  he 
handed  over  the  paper. 

332 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

In  the  meantime  I  watched  the  countenance  of  Susannah 
— a  slight  emotion,  but  instantly  checked,  was  visible  at  Mr. 
Cophagus's  remark.  She  then  remained  quiet  until  her 
sister,  who  had  read  the  paragraph,  handed  the  paper  to  her. 
'  I  give  thee  joy,  Japhet,  at  the  prospect  of  rinding  out  thy 
parent,'  said  Mrs.  Cophagus.  *  I  trust  thou  wilt  find  in  him 
one  who  is  to  be  esteemed  as  a  man.  When  departest  thou  ?' 

*  Immediately,'  replied  I. 

'  I  cannot  blame  thee — the  ties  of  nature  are  ever  powerful. 
I  trust  that  thou  wilt  write  to  us,  and  that  we  soon  shall  see 
thee  return.' 

'  Yes,  yes,'  said  Cophagus,  l  see  father — shake  hands — 
come  back — heh  ! — settle  here — and  so  on.' 

'  I  shall  not  be  altogether  my  own  master,  perhaps,' 
observed  I.  '  If  my  father  desires  that  I  remain  with  him, 
must  not  I  obey  ?  But  I  know  nothing  at  present.  You 
shall  hear  from  me.  Timothy  can  take  my  place  in  the — 
I  could  not  bear  the  idea  of  the  word  shop,  and  I  stopped. 
Susannah,  for  the  first  time,  looked  me  earnestly  in  the  face, 
but  she  said  nothing.  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cophagus,  who  probably 
had  been  talking  over  the  subject  of  our  conversation,  and 
thought  this  a  good  opportunity  to  allow  me  to  have  an 
eclaircissement  with  Susannah,  left  the  room,  saying  they 
would  look  after  my  portmanteau  and  linen.  *  Susannah,' 
said  I,  '  you  do  not  appear  to  rejoice  with  me.' 

'  Japhet  Newland,  I  will  rejoice  at  everything  that  may 
tend  to  thy  happiness,  believe  me  ;  but  I  do  not  feel  assured 
but  that  this  trial  may  prove  too  great,  and  that  thou  inayst 
fall  away.  Indeed,  I  perceive  even  now  that  thou  art  excited 
with  new  ideas,  and  visions  of  pride.' 

'  If  I  am  wrong,  forgive  me.  Susannah,  you  must  know 
that  the  whole  object  of  my  existence  has  been  to  find  my 
father ;  and  now  that  I  have  every  reason  to  suppose  that  my 
wish  is  obtained,  can  you  be  surprised,  or  can  you  blame  me, 
that  I  long  to  be  pressed  in  his  arms  ? ' 

'  Nay,  Japhet,  for  that  filial  feeling  I  do  commend  thee  ; 
but  ask  thy  own  heart,  is  that  the  only  feeling  which  now 
exciteth  thee  ?  Dost  thou  not  expect  to  find  thy  father  one 
high  in  rank  and  power  ?  Dost  thou  not  anticipate  to  join 
once  more  the  world  which  thou  hast  quitted,  yet  still  hast 
sighed  for  ?  Dost  thou  not  already  feel  contempt  for  thy 

333 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

honest  profession  : — nay,  more,  dost  thou  not  only  long  to 
cast  off  the  plain  attire,  and  not  only  the  attire,  but  the  sect 
which  in  thy  adversity  thou  didst  embrace  the  tenets  of? 
Ask  thy  own  heart,  and  reply  if  thou  wilt,  but  I  press  thee  not 
so  to  do  ;  for  the  truth  would  be  painful,  and  a  lie,  thou 
knowest,  I  do  utterly  abhor.3 

I  felt  that  Susannah  spoke  the  truth,  and  I  would  not  deny 
it.  I  sat  down  by  her.  {  Susannah,'  said  I,  '  it  is  not  very 
easy  to  change  at  once.  I  have  mixed  for  years  in  the  world, 
with  you  I  have  not  yet  lived  two.  I  will  not  deny  but  that 
the  feelings  you  have  expressed  have  risen  in  my  heart,  but  I 
will  try  to  repress  them  ;  at  least,  for  your  sake,  Susannah,  I 
would  try  to  repress  them,  for  I  value  your  opinion  more  than 
that  of  the  whole  world.  You  have  the  power  to  do  with  me 
as  you  please  : — will  you  exert  that  power  ? ' 

1  Japhet,'  replied  Susannah,  '  the  faith  which  is  not  built 
upon  a  more  solid  foundation  than  to  win  the  favour  of  an 
erring  being  like  myself  is  but  weak  ;  that  power  over  thee 
which  thou  expectest  will  fix  thee  in  the  right  path  may  soon 
be  lost,  and  what  is  then  to  direct  thee  ?  If  no  purer  motives 
than  earthly  affection  are  to  be  thy  stay,  most  surely  thou 
wilt  fall.  But  no  more  of  this  ;  thou  hast  a  duty  to  perform, 
which  is  to  go  to  thy  earthly  father,  and  seek  his  blessing. 
Nay,  more,  I  would  that  thou  shouldst  once  more  enter  into 
the  world,  there  thou  mayst  decide.  Shouldst  thou  return  to 
us,  thy  friends  will  rejoice,  and  not  one  of  them  will  be  more 
joyful  than  Susannah  Temple.  Fare  thee  well,  Japhet,  mayst 
thou  prove  superior  to  temptation.  I  will  pray  for  thee — 
earnestly  I  will  pray  for  thee,  Japhet,3  continued  Susannah, 
with  a  quivering  of  her  lips  and  broken  voice,  and  she  left 
the  room. 


CHAPTER    LXX 

I  return  to  London,  and  meet  with  Mr.  Masterton. 

I  WENT  upstairs,  and  found  that  all  was  ready,  and  I  took 
leave  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cophagus,  both  of  whom  expressed 
their  hopes  that  I  would  not  leave  them  for  ever.  '  Oh  no,3 

334 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

replied  I,  <  I  should  indeed  be  base,  if  I  did.'  I  left  them, 
and  with  Ephraim  following  with  my  portmanteau,  I  quitted 
the  house.  I  had  gone  about  twenty  yards,  when  I  recollected 
that  I  had  left  on  the  table  the  newspaper  with  the  advertise- 
ment containing  the  direction  whom  to  apply  to,  and  desiring 
Ephraim  to  proceed,  I  returned.  When  I  entered  the 
parlour,  Susannah  Temple  was  resting  her  face  in  her  hands 
and  weeping.  The  opening  of  the  door  made  her  start  up  ; 
she  perceived  that  it  was  I,  and  she  turned  away.  '  I  beg 
your  pardon,  I  left  the  newspaper,'  said  I,  stammering.  I 
was  about  to  throw  myself  at  her  feet,  declare  my  sincere 
affection,  and  give  up  all  idea  of  finding  my  father  until  we 
were  married,  when  she,  without  saying  a  word,  passed 
quickly  by  me,  and  hastened  out  of  the  room.  '  She  loves 
me,  then/  thought  I  ;  '  thank  God  : — I  will  not  go  yet,  I  will 
speak  to  her  first.3  I  sat  down,  quite  overpowered  with 
contending  feelings.  The  paper  was  in  my  hand,  the 
paragraph  was  again  read  ;  I  thought  but  of  my  father,  and  I 
left  the  house. 

In  half  an  hour  I  had  shaken  hands  with  Timothy  and 
quitted  the  town  of  Reading.  How  I  arrived  in  London,  that 
is  to  say,  what  passed,  or  what  we  passed,  I  know  not ;  my 
mind  was  in  such  a  state  of  excitement.  I  hardly  know  how 
to  express  the  state  that  I  was  in.  It  was  a  sort  of  mental 
whirling  which  blinded  me— round  and  round — from  my 
father  and  the  expected  meeting,  then  to  Susannah,  my 
departure,  and  her  tears — castle-building  of  every  description. 
After  the  coach  stopped,  there  I  remained  fixed  on  the  top 
of  it,  not  aware  that  we  were  in  London,  until  the  coachman 
asked  me  whether  the  spirit  did  not  move  me  to  get  down. 
I  recollected  myself,  and  calling  a  hackney-coach,  gave  orders 
to  be  driven  to  the  Piazza,  Covent  Garden. 

1  Piazza,  Common  Garden,'  said  the  waterman  ;  '  why  that 
ban't  an  'otel  for  the  like  o'  you,  master.  They'll  torment  you 
to  death,  them  young  chaps.' 

I  had  forgotten  that  I  was  dressed  as  a  Quaker.  '  Tell 
the  coachman  to  stop  at  the  first  cloth  warehouse  where  they 
have  ready-made  cloaks,'  said  I.  The  man  did  so  ;  I  went 
out  and  purchased  a  roquelaure,  which  enveloped  my  whole 
person.  I  then  stopped  at  a  hatter's,  and  purchased  a  hat 
according  to  the  mode.  '  Now  drive  to  the  Piazza,'  said  I, 

335 


'  Asked  me  whether  the  spirit  did  not  ;uove  me  to  get  down.' 
Copyright  1894  by  MacnMlan  &•  Co. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

entering  the  coach.  I  know  not  why,  but  I  was  resolved  to 
go  to  that  hotel.  It  was  the  one  I  had  stayed  at  when  I 
first  arrived  in  London,  and  I  wished  to  see  it  again.  When 
the  hackney-coach  stopped,  I  asked  the  waiter  who  came 
whether  he  had  apartments,  and  answering  me  in  the  affirma- 
tive, I  followed  him,  and  was  shown  into  the  same  rooms  I 
had  previously  occupied.  *  These  will  do,'  said  I  ;  '  now  let 
me  have  something  to  eat,  and  send  for  a  good  tailor.'  The 
waiter  offered  to  remove  my  cloak,  but  I  refused,  saying  that  I 
was  cold.  He  left  the  room,  and  I  threw  myself  on  the  sofa, 
running  over  all  the  scenes  which  had  passed  in  that  room 
with  Carbonnell,  Harcourt,  and  others.  My  thoughts  were 
broken  in  upon  by  the  arrival  of  the  tailor.  *  Stop  a  moment,' 
said  I,  '  and  let  him  come  in  when  I  ring.'  So  ashamed  was 
I  of  my  Quaker's  dress,  that  I  threw  off  my  coat  and  waist- 
coat, and  put  on  my  cloak  again  before  I  rang  the  bell  for  the 

tailor  to  come  up.      '  Mr.  ,'  said  I,  '  I  must  have  a  suit  of 

clothes  ready  by  to-morrow  at  ten  o'clock.' 
'  Impossible,  sir.' 

*  Impossible  !'  said  I,  '  and  you  pretend  to  be  a  fashionable 
tailor.      Leave  the  room.' 

At  this  peremptory  behaviour,  the  tailor  imagined  that  I 
must  be  somebody. 

'  I  will  do  my  possible,  sir,  and  if  I  can  only  get  home  in 
time  to  stop  the  workmen,  I  think  it  may  be  managed.  Of 
course,  you  are  aware  of  the  expense  of  night  work.' 

'  I  am  only  aware  of  this,  that  if  I  give  an  order,  I  am 
accustomed  to  have  it  obeyed  ;  I  learnt  that  from  my  poor 
friend,  Major  Carbonnell.' 

The  tailor  bowed  low ;  there  was  magic  in  the  name, 
although  the  man  was  dead. 

*  Here  have  I  been  masquerading  in  a  Quaker's  dress,    to 
please  a  puritanical  young  lady,   and  I   am  obliged   to   be  off 
without    any  other  clothes  in  my  portmanteau  ;  so  take    my 
measure,  and  I  expect  the  clothes  at  ten   precisely.'     So   say- 
ing, I  threw  off  my  roquelaure,  and   desired   him  to  proceed. 
This    accomplished,  the  tradesman  took  his    leave.      Shortly 
afterwards,  the  door  opened,  and  as  I  lay  wrapped  up   in  my 
cloak  on  the  sofa,  in  came  the  landlord  and  two  waiters,  each 
bearing  a  dish  of  my  supper.      I  wished  them   at  the   devil ; 
but  I  was  still  more  surprised  when  the  landlord  made  a  low 

z  337 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

bow,  saying,  *  Happy  to  see  you  returned,  Mr.  Newland ; 
you've  been  away  some  time — another  grand  tour,  I  pre- 
sume.' 

*  Yes,  Mr.  ,  I  have  had  a  few  adventures  since  I  was 

last  here,'  replied  I,  carelessly,  '  but  I  am  not  very  well.  You 
may  leave  the  supper,  and  if  I  feel  inclined,  I  will  take  a  little 
by  and  by, — no  one  need  wait.' 

The  landlord  and  waiter  bowed  and  went  out  of  the  room. 
I  turned  the  key  of  the  door,  put  on  my  Quaker's  coat,  and 
made  a  hearty  supper,  for  I  had  had  nothing  since  breakfast. 
When  I  had  finished,  I  returned  to  the  sofa,  and  I  could  not 
help  analysing  my  own  conduct.  '  Alas,'  thought  I,  '  Susannah, 
how  rightly  did  you  judge  me  !  I  am  not  away  from  you 
more  than  eighteen  hours,  and  here  I  am  ashamed  of  the 
dress  which  I  have  so  long  worn,  and  been  satisfied  with,  in 
your  society.  Truly  did  you  say  that  I  was  full  of  pride,  and 
would  joyfully  re-enter  the  world  of  vanity  and  vexation.'  And 
I  thought  of  Susannah,  and  her  tears  after  my  supposed 
departure,  and  I  felt  angry  and  annoyed  at  my  want  of 
strength  of  mind  and  my  worldly  feelings. 

I  retired  early  to  bed,  and  did  not  wake  until  late  the  next 
morning.  When  I  rang  the  bell,  the  chambermaid  brought  in 
my  clothes  from  the  tailor's  :  I  dressed,  and  I  will  not  deny 
that  I  was  pleased  with  the  alteration.  After  breakfast  I 
ordered  a  coach,  and  drove  to  No.  16  Throgmorton  Court, 
Minories.  The  house  was  dirty  outside,  and  the  windows  had 
not  been  cleaned  apparently  for  years,  and  it  was  with  some 
difficulty  when  I  went  in  that  I  could  decipher  a  tall,  haggard- 
looking  man  seated  at  the  desk. 

'  Your  pleasure,  sir  ?'  said  he. 

'  Am  I  speaking  to  the  principal  ?'  replied  I. 

'  Yes,  sir,  my  name  is  Chatfield.' 

'  I  come  to  you,  sir,  relative  to  an  advertisement  which 
appeared  in  the  papers.  I  refer  to  this,'  continued  I,  putting 
the  newspaper  down  on  the  desk,  and  pointing  to  the  ad- 
vertisement. 

'  Oh  yes,  very  true  :  can  you  give  us  any  information  ?' 

'^Yes,  sir,  I  can,  and  the  most  satisfactory.' 

1  Then,  sir,  I  am  sorry  that  you  have  had  so  much  trouble, 
but  you  must  call  at  Lincoln's  Inn  upon  a  lawyer  of  the  name 
of  Masterton  :  the  whole  affair  is  now  in  his  hands.' 

338 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  Can  you,  sir,  inform  me  who  is  the  party  that  is  inquiring 
after  this  young  man  ?; 

'  Why,  yes  ;  it  is  a  General  De  Benyon,  who  has  lately 
returned  from  the  East  Indies.' 

1  Good  God  !  is  it  possible  !J  thought  I  ;  '  how  strange  that 
my  own  wild  fancy  should  have  settled  upon  him  as  my 
father!' 

I  hurried  away  ;  threw  myself  into  the  hackney-coach,  and 
desired  the  man  to  drive  to  Lincoln's  Inn.  I  hastened  up  to 
Mr.  Masterton's  rooms  :  he  was  fortunately  at  home,  although 
he  stood  at  the  table  with  his  hat  and  his  great-coat  on,  ready 
to  go  out. 

'  My  dear  sir,  have  you  forgotten  me  ?'  said  I,  in  a  voice 
choked  with  emotion,  taking  his  hand  and  squeezing  it  with 
rapture. 

'  By  heavens,  you  are  determined  that  I  shall  not  forget 
you  for  some  minutes,  at  least,'  exclaimed  he,  wringing  his 
hand  with  pain.  '  Who  the  devil  are  you  ?' 

Mr.  Masterton  could  not  see  without  his  spectacles,  and  my 
subdued  voice  he  had  not  recognised.  He  pulled  them  out, 
as  I  made  no  reply,  and  fixing  them  across  his  nose — '  Hah  ! 
why  yes — it  is  Japhet,  is  it  not  ?' 

'  It  is  indeed,  sir,'  said  I,  again  offering  my  hand,  which  he 
shook  warmly. 

'  Not  quite  so  hard,  my  dear  fellow,  this  time,5  said  the 
old  lawyer  ;  *  I  acknowledge  your  vigour,  and  that  is  suffi- 
cient. I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  Japhet,  I  am  indeed — 
you — you  scamp — you  ungrateful  fellow.  Sit  down  —  sit 
down — first  help  me  off  with  my  great-coat :  I  presume  the 
advertisement  has  brought  you  into  existence  again.  Well, 
it's  all  true  ;  and  you  have  at  last  found  your  father,  or, 
rather,  he  has  found  you.  And  what's  more  strange,  you 
hit  upon  the  right  person ;  that  is  strange — very  strange 
indeed.' 

'  Where  is  he,  sir  ?'  interrupted  I,  '  where  is  he — take  me 
to  him.' 

'  No,  rather  be  excused,'  replied  Mr.  Masterton,  '  for  he  is 
gone  to  Ireland,  so  you  must  wait.'  ft 

'  Wait,  sir,  oh  no — I  must  follow  him.' 

'  That  will  only  do  harm  ;  for  he  is  rather  a  queer  sort  of 
an  old  gentleman,  and  although  he  acknowledges  that  he  left 

339 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

you  as  Japhet  and  has  searched  for  you,  yet  he  is  so  afraid  of 
somebody  else's  brat  being  put  upon  him,  that  he  insists  upon 
most  undeniable  proofs.  Now,  we  cannot  trace  you  from 
the  hospital  unless  we  can  find  that  fellow  Cophagus,  and 
we  have  made  every  search  after  him,  and  no  one  can  tell 
where  he  is.' 

*  But  I  left  him  but  yesterday  morning,  sir,'  replied  I. 

'  Good — very  good  ;  we  must  send  for  him  or  go  to  him  ; 
besides,  he  has  the  packet  intrusted  to  the  care  of  Miss  Mait- 
land,  to  whom  he  was  executor,  which  proves  the  marriage  of 
your  father.  Very  strange — very  strange  indeed,  that  you 
should  have  hit  upon  it  as  you  did — almost  supernatural. 
However,  all  right  now,  my  dear  boy,  and  I  congratulate  you. 
Your  father  is  a  very  strange  person  :  he  has  lived  like  a 
despot  among  slaves  all  his  life,  and  will  not  be  thwarted,  I 
can  tell  you.  If  you  say  a  word  in  contradiction  he'll  disin- 
herit you  : — terrible  old  tiger,  I  must  say.  If  it  had  not  been 
for  your  sake,  I  should  have  done  with  him  long  ago.  He 
seems  to  think  the  world  ought  to  be  at  his  feet.  Depend 
upon  it,  Japhet,  there  is  no  hurry  about  seeing  him  ; — and  see 
him  you  shall  not,  until  we  have  every  proof  of  your  identity 
ready  to  produce  to  him.  I  hope  you  have  the  bump  of 
veneration  strong,  Japhet,  and  plenty  of  filial  duty,  or  you  will 
be  kicked  out  of  the  house  in  a  week.  D — n  me,  if  he  didn't 
call  me  an  old  thief  of  a  lawyer.' 

'  Indeed,  sir,'  replied  I,  laughing  ;  '  I  must  apologise  to 
you  for  my  father's  conduct.' 

1  Never  mind,  Japhet  ;  I  don't  care  about  a  trifle  ;  but  why 
don't  you  ask  after  your  friends  ? J 

*  I  have  longed  so  to  do,  sir,'   replied    I.      '  Lord   Winder- 
mear — 

'  Is  quite  well,  and  will  be  most  happy  to  see  you.' 

'  Lady  de  Clare,  and  her  daughter ' 

'  Lady  de  Clare  has  entered  into  society  again,  and  her 
daughter,  as  you  call  her — your  Fleta,  alias  Cecilia  de  Clare 
— is  the  belle  of  the  metropolis.  But  now,  sir,  as  I  have 
answered  all  your  interrogatories,  and  satisfied  you  upon  the 
most  essential  points,  will  you  favour  me  with  a  narrative  of 
your  adventures  (for  adventures  I  am  sure  you  must  have 
had)  since  you  ran  away  from  us  all  in  that  ungrateful 
manner.' 

340 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

4  Most  certainly,  sir,  I  will ;  and,  as  you  say,  I  have  had 
adventures.  But  it  really  will  be  a  long  story.' 

'  Then  we'll  dine  here,  and  pass  the  evening  together — so 
that's  settled.' 


CHAPTER    LXXI 

In  which  I  am  let  into  more  particulars  relative  to  my  father's  history. 

I  DISMISSED  the  coach,  while  Mr.  Masterton  gave  his  orders 
for  dinner,  and  we  then  turned  the  key  of  the  door  to  avoid 
intrusion,  and  I  commenced.  It  was  nearly  dinner-time 
before  I  had  finished  my  story. 

'  Well,  you  really  appear  to  be  born  for  getting  into  scrapes, 
and  getting  out  of  them  again  in  a  miraculous  way,'  observed 
Mr.  Masterton.  '  Your  life  would  make  a  novel.' 

'  It  would  indeed,  sir,'  replied  I.  '  I  only  hope,  like  all 
novels,  it  will  wind  up  well.' 

'So  do  I  ;  but  dinner's  ready,  Japhet,  and  after  dinner 
we'll  talk  the  matter  over  again,  for  there  are  some  points 
upon  which  I  require  some  explanation.' 

We  sat  down  to  dinner,  and  when  we  had  finished,  and 
the  table  had  been  cleared,  we  drew  to  the  fire,  with  our  bottle 
of  wine.  Mr.  Masterton  stirred  the  fire,  called  for  his  slippers, 
and  then  crossing  his  legs  over  the  fender,  resumed  the  subject. 

'  Japhet,  I  consider  it  most  fortunate  that  we  have  met, 
previous  to  your  introduction  to  your  father.  You  have  so 
far  to  congratulate  yourself,  that  your  family  is  undeniably 
good,  there  being,  as  you  know,  an  Irish  peerage  in  it  ;  of 
which,  however,  you  have  no  chance,  as  the  present  earl  has  a 
numerous  offspring.  You  are  also  fortunate  as  far  as  money 
is  concerned,  as  I  have  every  reason  to  believe  that  your 
father  is  a  very  rich  man,  and,  of  course,  you  are  his  only 
child ;  but  I  must  now  prepare  you  to  meet  with  a  very 
different  person  than  perhaps  the  fond  anticipations  of  youth 
may  have  led  you  to  expect.  Your  father  has  no  paternal 
feelings  that  I  can  discover ;  he  has  wealth,  and  he  wishes  to 
leave  it — he  has  therefore  sought  you  out.  But  he  is  despotic, 
violent,  and  absurd  ;  the  least  opposition  to  his  will  makes 
him  furious,  and  I  am  sorry  to  add,  that  I  am  afraid  that  he 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

is  very  mean.  He  suffered  severely  when  young  from  poverty, 
and  his  own  father  was  almost  as  authoritative  and  unforgiving 
as  himself.  And  now  I  will  state  how  it  was  that  you  were 


'  Mr.  Masterton  resumed  the  subject. ' 
Copyright  1894  by  Macmillan  &•  Co. 

left  at  the  Asylum  when  an  infant.  Your  grandfather  had 
procured  for  your  father  a  commission  in  the  army,  and  soon 
afterwards  procured  him  a  lieutenancy.  He  ordered  him  to 

342 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

marry  a  young  lady  of  large  fortune,  whom  he  had  never  seen, 
and  sent  for  him  for  that  purpose.  I  understand  that  she  was 
very  beautiful,  and  had  your  father  seen  her,  it  is  probable  he 
would  have  made  no  objection  ;  but  he  very  foolishly  sent  a 
peremptory  refusal,  for  which  he  was  dismissed  for  ever.  In 
a  short  time  afterwards  your  father  fell  in  love  with  a  young 
lady  of  great  personal  attractions,  and  supposed  to  possess  a 
large  fortune.  To  deceive  her,  he  pretended  to  be  the  heir  to 
the  earldom,  and,  after  a  hasty  courtship,  they  ran  off,  and 
were  married.  When  they  compared  notes,  which  they  soon 
did,  it  was  discovered  that,  on  his  side,  he  had  nothing  but 
the  pay  of  a  subaltern,  and  on  hers,  that  she  had  not  one 
shilling.  Your  father  stormed,  and  called  his  wife  an  impostor  ; 
she  recriminated,  and  the  second  morning  after  the  marriage 
was  passed  in  tears  on  her  side,  and  oaths,  curses,  and  revilings 
on  his.  The  lady,  however,  appeared  the  more  sensible  party 
of  the  two.  Their  marriage  was  not  known,  she  had  run  away 
on  a  pretence  to  visit  a  relative,  and  it  was  actually  supposed 
in  the  county  town  where  she  resided,  that  such  was  the  case. 
"  Why  should  we  quarrel  in  this  way  ?  "  observed  she.  "  You, 
Edmund,  wished  to  marry  a  fortune,  and  not  me — I  may  plead 
guilty  to  the  same  duplicity.  We  have  made  a  mistake  ;  but 

it  is  not  too  late.  It  is  supposed  that  I  am  on  a  visit  to , 

and  that  you  are  on  furlough  for  a  few  days.  Did  you  confide 
your  secret  to  any  of  your  brother  officers  ? "  "  Not  one," 
muttered  your  father.  "  Well,  then,  let  us  part  as  if  nothing 
had  happened,  and  nobody  will  be  the  wiser.  We  are  equally 
interested  in  keeping  the  secret.  Is  it  agreed  ?  "  Your  father 
immediately  consented.  He  accompanied  your  mother  to  the 

house  at  ,  where  she  was  expected,  and  she  framed  a 

story  for  her  delay,  by  having  met  such  a  very  polite  young 
man.  Your  father  returned  to  his  regiment,  and  thus  did  they 
like  two  privateers,  who,  when  they  meet  and  engage,  as  soon 
as  they  find  out  their  mistake,  hoist  their  colours,  and  sheer  off 
by  mutual  consent.' 

'  I  can't  say  much  for  my  mother's  affection  or  delicacy,' 
observed  I. 

;The  less  you  say  the  better,  Japhet — however,  that  is 
your  father's  story.  And  now  to  proceed.  It  appears  that, 
about  two  months  afterwards,  your  father  received  a  letter 
from  your  mother,  acquainting  him  that  their  short  intercourse 

343 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

had  been  productive  of  certain  results,  and  requesting  that  he 
would  take  the  necessary  steps  to  provide  for  the  child,  and 
avoid  exposure,  or  that  she  would  be  obliged  to  confess  her 
marriage.  By  what  means  they  contrived  to  avoid  exposure 
until  the  period  of  her  confinement,  I  know  not,  but  your 
father  states  that  the  child  was  born  in  a  house  in  London, 
and,  by  agreement,  was  instantly  put  into  his  hands  ;  that  he, 
with  the  consent  of  his  wife,  left  you  at  the  door  of  the  Asylum, 
with  the  paper  and  the  bank  note,  from  which  you  received 
the  name  of  Newland.  At  the  time,  he  had  no  idea  of  re- 
claiming you  himself ;  but  the  mother  had  ;  for,  heartless  as 
she  appears  to  have  been,  yet  a  mother  must  feel  for  her 
child.  Your  father's  regiment  was  then  ordered  out  to  the 
East  Indies,  and  he  was  rapidly  promoted  for  his  gallantry 
and  good  conduct  during  the  war  in  the  Mysore  territory. 
Once  only  has  he  returned  home  on  furlough,  and  then  he  did 
make  inquiries  after  you ;  not,  it  appears,  with  a  view  of  find- 
ing you  out  on  his  own  account,  but  from  a  promise  which  he 
made  your  mother.' 

'  My  mother  !  what,  have  they  met  since  ! ' 

'Yes;  your  mother  went  out  to  India  on  speculation, 
passing  off  as  a  single  girl,  and  was  very  well  married  there,  I 
was  going  to  say ;  however,  she  committed  a  very  splendid 
bigamy.' 

*  Good  heavens  !  how  totally  destitute  of  principle  ! ' 

*  Your  father  asserts  that  your  mother  was  a  freethinker, 
Japhet ;  her  father  had   made   her   one ;    without   religion   a 
woman  has  no  stay.      Your  father  was  in  the  up  country  during 
the  time  that  your  mother  arrived,  and  was  married  to  one  of 
the  council  of  Calcutta.      Your  father  says  that  they  met  at  a 
ball  at  Government   House.      She  was  still  a  very  handsome 
woman,  and  much  admired.       When  your  father  recognised 
her,  and  was  told  that  she  was  lately  married  to  the  Honourable 
Mr.  -  — ,  he  was  quite  electrified,  and  would  have  quitted  :he 
room  ;    but  she  had  perceived  him,  and  walking  up  to  him 
with  the  greatest  coolness,  claimed  him  as  an  old  acquaintance 
in  England,   and   afterwards    they  often   met,   but   she   never 
adverted  to  what  had  passed  between  them,  until  the  time  for 
his  departure  to  England  on  leave,  and  she  then  sent  for  h:m, 
and   begged   that   he  would  make   some   inquiries  after  you, 
Japhet.      He  did  so,  and  you  know  the  result.      On  his  return 

344 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

to  India  he  found  that  your  mother  had  been  carried  off  by 
the  prevailing  pestilence.  At  that  period,  your  father  was  not 
rich,  but  he  was  then  appointed  to  the  chief  command  in  the 
Carnatic,  and  reaped  a  golden  harvest  in  return  for  his  success 
and  bravery.  It  appears,  as  far  as  I  could  obtain  it  from  him, 
that  as  long  as  your  mother  was  alive,  he  felt  no  interest  about 
you  ;  but  her  death,  and  the  subsequent  wealth  which  poured 
upon  him,  have  now  induced  him  to  find  out  an  heir,  to  whom 
it  may  be  bequeathed. 

*  Such,  Japhet,  are  the  outlines  of  your  father's  history  ;  and 
I  must  point  out  that  he  has  no  feelings  of  affection  for  you  at 
present.      The  conduct  of  your  mother  is  ever  before  him,  and 
if  it  were  not  that  he  wishes  an  heir,  I  should  almost  say  that 
his  feelings  are  those  of  dislike.      You  may  create  an  interest 
in   his   heart,  it    is  true  :    and   he    may   be   gratified   by  your 
personal  appearance  ;   but  you  will  have  a  very  difficult  task, 
as  you  will  have  to  submit  to  his  caprices  and  fancies,  and  I 
am  afraid  that,  to  a  high  spirit  like  yours,  they  will  be  almost 
unbearable.' 

'  Really,  sir,  I  begin  to  feel  that  the  fondest  anticipations 
are  seldom  realised,  and  almost  to  wish  that  I  had  not  been 
sought  for  by  my  father.  I  was  happy  and  contented,  and 
now  I  do  not  see  any  chance  of  having  to  congratulate  myself 
on  the  change.' 

*  On  one  or  two  points  I  also  wish  to  question  you.      It  ap- 
pears that  you  have  entered  into  the  sect  denominated  Quakers. 
Tell  me  candidly,  do  you  subscribe  heartily  and  sincerely  to 
their  doctrines  ?     And  I  was  going  to  add,  is  it  your  intention 
to  remain  with  them  ?     I  perceive  much  difficulty  in  all  this.' 

'  The  tenets  of  the  sect  I  certainly  do  believe  to  be  more  in 
accordance  with  the  Christian  religion  than  any  other  ;  and  I 
have  no  hesitation  in  asserting,  from  my  knowledge  of  those 
who  belong  to  that  sect,  that  they,  generally  speaking,  lead 
better  lives.  There  are  some  points  connected  with  their 
worship,  which,  at  first,  I  considered  ridiculous  :  the  feeling 
has,  however,  worn  off  As  to  their  quaint  manner  of  speaking, 
that  has  been  grossly  exaggerated.  Their  dress  is  a  part  of 
their  religion.' 

<  Why  so,  Japhet  ? ' 

'  I  can  reply  to  you  in  the  words  of  Susannah  Temple,  when 
I  made  the  same  interrogatory.  "  You  think  the  peculiarity 

345 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

of  our  dress  is  an  outward  form  which  is  not  required.  It  was 
put  on  to  separate  us  from  others,  and  as  a  proof  of  our 
sincerity ;  but  still,  the  discarding  of  the  dress  is  a  proof  of 
sincerity.  We  consider,  that  to  admire  the  person  is  vain, 
and  our  creed  is  humility.  It  is  therefore  an  outward  and 
visible  sign,  that  we  would  act  up  to  those  tenets  which  we 
profess.  It  is  not  all  who  wear  the  dress  who  are  Quakers  in 
heart  or  conduct ;  but  we  know  that  when  it  is  put  aside,  the 
tenets  of  our  persuasion  are  at  the  same  time  renounced, 
therefore  do  we  consider  it  essential.  I  do  not  mean  to  say 
but  that  the  heart  may  be  as  pure,  and  the  faith  continue  as 
stedfast,  without  such  signs  outwardly,  but  it  is  a  part  of  our 
creed,  and  we  must  not  choose,  but  either  reject  all  or  none." ' 
'  Very  well  argued  by  the  little  Quakeress  ;  and  now, 
Japhet,  I  should  like  to  put  another  question  to  you.  Are  you 
very  much  attached  to  this  young  puritan  ? ' 

*  I  will  not  deny  but  that  I  am.      I  love  her  sincerely.' 

'  Does  your  love  carry  you  so  far,  that  you  would,  for  her 
sake,  continue  a  Quaker,  and  marry  her  ?  ' 

'  I  have  asked  myself  that  question  at  least  a  hundred  times 
during  the  last  twenty-four  hours,  and  I  cannot  decide.  If 
she  would  dress  as  others  do,  and  allow  me  to  do  the  same,  I 
would  marry  her  to-morrow  ;  whether  I  shall  ever  make  up  my 
mind  to  adhere  to  the  persuasion,  and  live  and  die  a  Quaker 
for  her  sake,  is  quite  another  matter — but  I  am  afraid  not — I 
am  too  worldly-minded.  The  fact  is,  I  am  in  a  very  awkward 
position  with  respect  to  her.  I  have  never  acknowledged  my 
affection,  or  asked  for  a  return,  but  she  knows  I  love  her,  and 
I  know  that  she  loves  me.' 

*  Like  all  vain  boys,  you  flatter  yourself.' 

*  I  leave  you  to  judge,  sir,'  replied  I,  repeating  to  him  our 
parting  tete-a-tete^  and  how  I   had  returned,  and  found  her  in 
tears. 

'  All  that  certainly  is  very  corroborative  evidence  ;  but  tell 
me,  Japhet,  do  you  think  she  loves  you  well  enough  to  abandon 
all  for  your  sake  ? ' 

*  No,  nor  ever  will,  sir,  she  is  too  high-principled,  too  high- 
minded.      She  might  suffer  greatly,  but  she  never  would  swerve 
from  what  she  thought  was  right.' 

*  She  must  be  a  fine  character,  Japhet,  but  you  will  be  in  a 
dilemma  :  indeed,  it  appears  to  me,  that  your  troubles  are  now 

346 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

commencing  instead  of  ending,  and  that  you  would  have  been 
much  happier  where  you  were,  than  you  will  be  by  being 
again  brought  out  into  the  world.  Your  prospect  is  not  over- 
cheerful.  You  have  an  awkward  father  to  deal  with  :  you  will 
be  under  a  strong  check,  I've  a  notion,  and  I  am  afraid  you 
will  find  that,  notwithstanding  you  will  be  once  more  received 
into  society,  all  is  vanity  and  vexation  of  spirit.' 

1 1  am  afraid  you  are  right,  sir/  replied  I,  '  but  at  all  events, 
it  will  be  something  gained,  to  be  acknowledged  to  the  world 
by  a  father  of  good  family,  whatever  else  I  may  have  to  sub- 
mit to.  I  have  been  the  sport  of  Fortune  all  my  life,  and 
probably  she  has  not  yet  done  playing  with  me  ;  but  it  is  late, 
and  I  will  now  wish  you  good-night.' 

*  Good-night,  Japhet ;  if  I  have  any  intelligence  I  will  let 
you  know.  Lady  de  Clare's  address  is  No.  1 3  Park  Street. 
You  will,  of  course,  go  there  as  soon  as  you  can.' 

'  I  will,  sir,  after  I  have  written  my  letters  to  my  friends 
at  Reading.' 


CHAPTER    LXXII 

I  am  a  little  jealous,  and,  like  the  immortal  William  Bottom,  inclined  to 
enact  more  parts  than  one — With  a  big  effort  my  hankering  after 
bigamy  is  mastered  by  Mr.  Masterton — and  by  my  own  good  sense. 

I  RETURNED  home  to  reflect  upon  what  Mr.  Masterton  had 
told  me,  and  I  must  say  that  I  was  not  very  well  pleased  with 
his  various  information.  His  account  of  my  mother,  although 
she  was  no  more,  distressed  me,  and,  from  the  character  which 
he  gave  of  my  father,  I  felt  convinced  that  my  happiness  would 
not  be  at  all  increased  by  my  having  finally  attained  the  long- 
desired  object  of  my  wishes.  Strange  to  say,  I  had  no  sooner 
discovered  my  father,  but  I  wished  that  he  had  never  turned 
up  ;  and  when  I  compared  the  peaceful  and  happy  state  of 
existence  which  I  had  lately  enjoyed,  with  the  prospects  of 
what  I  had  in  future  to  submit  to,  I  bitterly  repented  that  the 
advertisement  had  been  seen  by  Timothy  ;  still,  on  one  point, 
I  was  peculiarly  anxious,  without  hardly  daring  to  anatomise 
my  feelings  ;  it  was  relative  to  Cecilia  de  Clare,  and  what  Mr. 

347 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Masterton  had  mentioned  in  the  course  of  our  conversation. 
The  next  morning  I  wrote  to  Timothy  and  to  Mr.  Cophagus, 
giving  them  a  short  detail  of  what  I  had  been  informed  by 
Mr.  Masterton,  and  expressing  a  wish,  which  I  then  really  did 
feel,  that  I  had  never  been  summoned  away  from  them. 

Having  finished  my  letters,  I  set  off  to  Park  Street,  to  call 
upon  Lady  de  Clare  and  Cecilia.  It  was  rather  early,  but  the 
footman  who  opened  the  door  recognised  me,  and  I  was 
admitted  upon  his  own  responsibility.  It  was  now  more  than 
eighteen  months  since  I  had  quitted  their  house  at  Richmond, 
and  I  was  very  anxious  to  know  what  reception  I  might  have. 
I  followed  the  servant  upstairs,  and  when  he  opened  the  door 
walked  in,  as  my  name  was  announced. 

Lady  de  Clare  rose  in  haste  ;  so  did  Cecilia,  and  so  did  a 
third  person,  whom  I  had  not  expected  to  have  met — Harcourt. 
'  Mr.  Newland,'  exclaimed  Lady  de  Clare,  '  this  is  indeed 
unexpected.'  Cecilia  also  came  forward,  blushing  to  the  fore- 
head. Harcourt  held  back,  as  if  waiting  for  the  advances  to 
be  made  on  my  side.  On  the  whole,  I  never  felt  more 
awkwardly,  and  I  believe  my  feelings  were  reciprocated  by 
the  whole  party.  I  was  evidently  de  trop. 

1  Do  you  know  Mr.  Harcourt  ? '  at  last  said  Lady  de  Clare. 

'  If  it  is  the  Mr.  Harcourt  I  once  knew,'  replied  I,  '  I 
certainly  do.' 

'  Believe  me  it  is  the  same,  Newland,'  said  Harcourt,  coming 
to  me  and  offering  his  hand,  which  I  took  with  pleasure. 

'It  is  a  long  while  since  we  met,'  observed  Cecilia,  who 
felt  it  necessary  to  say  something,  but,  at  the  same  time,  did 
not  like  to  enter  upon  my  affairs  before  Harcourt. 

'  It  is,  Miss  de  Clare,'  replied  I,  for  I  was  not  exactly 
pleased  at  my  reception  ;  '  but  I  have  been  fortunate  since  I 
had  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  last.' 

Cecilia  and  her  mother  looked  earnestly,  as  much  as  to  say, 
in  what  ? — but  did  not  like  to  ask  the  question. 

'  There  is  no  one  present  who  is  not  well  acquainted  with 
my  history,'  observed  I,  '  that  is,  until  the  time  I  left  you  and 
Lady  de  Clare,  and  I  have  no  wish  to  create  mystery.  I  have 
at  last  discovered  my  father.' 

'  I  hope  we  are  to  congratulate  you,  Mr.  Newland,'  said 
Lady  de  Clare. 

'As    far    as    respectability    and    family    are    concerned,    I 

348 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

certainly  have  no  reason  to  be  ashamed,'  replied  I.  '  He  is 
the  brother  of  an  earl,  and  a  general  in  the  army.  His  name 
I  will  not  mention  until  I  have  seen  him,  and  I  am  formally 
and  openly  acknowledged.  I  have  also  the  advantage  of 
being  an  only  son,  and  if  I  am  not  disinherited,  heir  to 
considerable  property,'  continued  I,  smiling  sarcastically. 
'  Perhaps  I  may  now  be  better  received  than  I  have  been  as 
Japhet  Newland  the  Foundling  :  but,  Lady  de  Clare,  I  am 
afraid  that  I  have  intruded  unseasonably,  and  will  now  take 
my  leave.  Good  morning ' ;  and  without  waiting  for  a  reply, 
I  made  a  hasty  retreat,  and  gained  the  door. 

Flushed  with  indignation,  I  had  nearly  gained  the  bottom 
of  the  stairs,  when  I  heard  a  light  footstep  behind  me,  and  my 
arm  was  caught  by  Cecilia  de  Clare.  I  turned  round,  and  she 
looked  me  reproachfully  in  the  face,  as  the  tear  stood  in  her 
eye.  '  What  have  we  done,  Japhet,  that  you  should  treat  us 
in  this  manner  ? '  said  she  with  emotion. 

f  Miss  de  Clare,'  replied  I,  '  I  have  no  reproaches  to  make. 
I  perceived  that  my  presence  was  not  welcome,  and  I  would 
no  further  intrude.' 

'  Are  you  then  so  proud,  now  that  you  have  found  out  that 
you  are  well  born,  Japhet  ? ' 

*  I  am  much  too  proud  to  intrude  where  I  am  not  wished  for, 
Miss  de  Clare.      As  Japhet  Newland,  I  came  here  to  see  the 
Fleta  of  former  days.      When  I  assume  my  real  name,  I  shall 
always  be  most  happy  of  an  introduction  to  the  daughter  of 
Lady  de  Clare.' 

*  Oh  !  how  changed,'  exclaimed  she,  fixing  her  large  blue 
eyes  upon  me. 

'Prosperity  changes  us  all,  Miss  de  Clare.  I  wish  you 
a  very  good  morning '  ;  and  I  turned  away,  and  crossed  the 
hall  to  the  door. 

As  I  went  out  I  could  not  help  looking  back,  and  I 
perceived  that  Cecilia's  handkerchief  was  held  to  her  eyes,  as 
she  slowly  mounted  the  stairs.  I  walked  home  to  the  Piazza 
in  no  very  pleasant  humour.  I  was  angry  and  disgusted  at 
the  coolness  of  my  reception.  I  thought  myself  ill  used,  and 
treated  with  ingratitude.  '  So  much  for  the  world,'  said  I,  as 
I  sat  down  in  my  apartment,  and  spun  my  hat  on  the  table. 
'  She  has  been  out  two  seasons,  and  is  no  longer  the  same 
person.  Yet  how  lovely  she  has  grown !  But  why  this 

349 


'  I  heard  a  light  footstep  behind  me. ' 
Copyright  1894  J>y  Macmillan  &  Co. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

change — and  why  was  Harcourt  there  ?  Could  he  have 
prejudiced  them  against  me  ?  Very  possibly.'  While  these 
ideas  were  running  in  my  mind,  and  I  was  making  comparisons 
between  Cecilia  de  Clare  and  Susannah  Temple — not  much  in 
favour  of  the  former — and  looking  forward  prospectively  to 
the  meeting  with  my  father,  the  doubts  as  to  my  reception  in 
society  colouring  everything  with  the  most  sombre  tints,  the 
door  opened,  and  in  walked  Harcourt,  announced  by  the 
waiter. 

1 A  chair  for  Mr.  Harcourt,7  said  I  to  the  waiter,  with 
formality. 

'  Newland,'  said  Harcourt,  *  I  come  for  two  reasons  :  in 
the  first  place  I  am  commissioned  by  the  ladies  to  assure 
you — 

'  I  beg  your  pardon,  Mr.  Harcourt,  for  interrupting  you, 
but  I  require  no  ambassador  from  the  ladies  in  question. 
They  may  make  you  their  confidant  if  they  please,  but  I  am 
not  at  all  inclined  to  do  the  same.  Explanation,  after  what  I 
witnessed  and  felt  this  morning,  is  quite  unnecessary.  I 
surrender  all  claims  upon  either  Lady  de  Clare  or  her 
daughter,  if  I  ever  was  so  foolhardy  as  to  imagine  that  I  had 
any.  The  first  reason  of  your  visit  it  is  therefore  useless  to 
proceed  with.  May  I  ask  the  other  reason  which  has  procured 
me  this  honour  ?  ' 

'  I  hardly  know,  Mr.  Newland,'  replied  Harcourt,  colouring 
deeply,  <  whether  after  what  you  have  now  said  I  ought  to 
proceed  with  the  second — it  related  to  myself.' 

'  I  am  all  attention,  Mr.  Harcourt,'  replied  I,  bowing 
politely. 

'  It  was  to  say,  Mr.  Newland,  that  I  should  have  taken  the 
earliest  opportunity  after  my  recovery,  had  you  not  disappeared 
so  strangely,  to  have  expressed  my  sorrow  for  my  conduct 
towards  you,  and  to  have  acknowledged  that  I  had  been 
deservedly  punished  :  more  perhaps  by  my  own  feelings  of 
remorse,  than  by  the  dangerous  wound  I  had  received  by  your 
hand.  I  take  even  this  opportunity,  although  not  apparently 
a  favourable  one,  of  expressing  what  I  consider  it  my  duty, 
as  a  gentleman  who  has  wronged  another,  to  express.  I 
certainly  was  going  to  add  more,  but  there  is  so  little  chance 
of  its  being  well  received,  that  I  had  better  defer  it  to  some 
future  opportunity.  The  time  may  come,  and  I  certainly  trust  it 

351 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

will  come,  when  I  may  be  allowed  to  prove  to  you  that  I  am 
not  deserving  of  the  coolness  with  which  I  am  now  received. 
Mr.  Newland,  with  every  wish  for  your  happiness,  I  will  now 
take  my  leave  ;  but  I  must  say,  it  is  with  painful  sentiments, 
as  I  feel  that  the  result  of  this  interview  will  be  the  cause  of 
great  distress  to  those  who  are  bound  to  you  not  only  by 
gratitude,  but  sincere  regard.' 

Harcourt  then  bowed,  and  quitted  the  room. 

*  It's  all  very  well,'  muttered  I,  '  but  I  know  the  world  and 
am  not  to  be  soothed  down  by  a  few  fine  words.  I  trust  that 
they  will  be  sorry  for  their  conduct,  but  see  me  again  inside 
their  doors  they  will  not '  ;  and  I  sat  down,  trying  to  feel 
satisfied  with  myself — but  I  was  not ;  I  felt  that  I  had  acted 
harshly,  to  say  no  more.  I  ought  to  have  listened  to  an 
explanation  sent  by  Cecilia  and  her  mother,  after  her  coming 
downstairs  to  expostulate.  They  were  under  great  obligations 
to  me,  and  by  my  quick  resentment,  I  rendered  the  obligations 
more  onerous.  It  was  unkind  of  me — and  I  wished  that 
Harcourt  had  not  left  the  room.  As  for  his  conduct,  I  tried 
to  find  fault  with  it,  but  could  not.  It  was  gentlemanly  and 
feeling.  The  fact  was,  I  was  in  a  very  bad  humour,  and  could 
not  at  the  time  discover  the  reason,  which  was  neither  more 
nor  less  than  that  I  was  more  jealous  of  finding  Harcourt  so 
intimate  at  Lady  de  Clare's,  than  I  was  at  the  unpalatable 
reception  which  I  had  met  with.  The  waiter  came  in,  and 
brought  me  a  note  from  Mr.  Masterton. 

'  I  have  this  morning  received  a  summons  from  your  father, 
who  returned,  it  appears,  two  days  ago,  and  is  now  at  the 
Adelphi  Hotel.  I  am  sorry  to  say,  that  stepping  out  of  his 
carriage  when  travelling,  he  missed  his  footing,  and  snapped 
his  tendon  Achilles.  He  is  laid  up  on  a  couch,  and,  as  you 
may  suppose,  his  amiability  is  not  increased  by  the  accident, 
and  the  pain  attending  it.  As  he  has  requested  me  to  bring 
forward  immediate  evidence  as  to  your  identity,  and  the 
presence  of  Mr.  Cophagus  is  necessary,  I  propose  that  we 
start  for  Reading  to-morrow  at  nine  o'clock.  I  have  a 
curiosity  to  go  down  there,  and  having  a  leisure  day  or  two,  it 
will  be  a  relaxation.  I  wish  to  see  my  old  acquaintance 
Timothy,  and  your  shop.  Answer  by  bearer. 

'J.  MASTERTON.' 

352 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  wrote  a  few  lines,  informing  Mr.  Masterton  that  I  would 
be  with  him  at  the  appointed  hour,  and  then  sat  down  to  my 
solitary  meal.  How  different  from  when  I  was  last  at  this 
hotel !  Now  I  knew  nobody.  I  had  to  regain  my  footing  in 
society,  and  that  could  only  be  accomplished  by  being 
acknowledged  by  my  father ;  and,  as  soon  as  that  was  done,  I 
would  call  upon  Lord  Windermear,  who  would  quickly  effect 
what  I  desired.  The  next  morning  I  was  ready  at  nine 
o'clock,  and  set  off  with  post-horses,  with  Mr.  Masterton,  in 
his  own  carriage.  I  told  him  what  had  occurred  the  day 
before,  and  how  disgusted  I  was  at  my  reception. 

'  Upon  my  word,  Japhet,  I  think  you  are  wrong,'  replied 
the  old  gentleman  ;  '  and  if  you  had  not  told  me  of  your 
affection  for  Miss  Temple,  to  see  whom,  by  the  bye,  I  confess 
to  be  one  of  the  chief  motives  of  my  going  down  with  you,  I 
should  almost  suppose  that  you  were  blinded  by  jealousy. 
Does  it  not  occur  to  you,  that  if  Mr.  Harcourt  was  admitted 
to  the  ladies  at  such  an  early  hour,  there  was  preference 
shown  him  in  that  quarter?  And  now  I  recollect  that 
I  heard  something  about  it.  Harcourt's  elder  brother  died, 
and  he's  come  into  the  property,  and  I  heard  somebody  say 
that  he  would  in  all  probability  succeed  in  gaining  the  hand- 
somest girl  in  London  with  a  large  fortune — that  it  was  said 
to  be  a  match.  Now,  if  such  be  the  case,  and  you  broke  in 
upon  a  quiet  reunion  between  two  young  people  about  to  be 
united,  almost  without  announcement,  and  so  unexpectedly, 
after  a  lapse  of  so  long  a  time,  surely  you  cannot  be  surprised 
at  there  being  a  degree  of  confusion  and  restraint — more 
especially  after  what  had  passed  between  Harcourt  and 
you.  Depend  upon  it,  that  was  the  cause  of  it.  Had 
Lady  de  Clare  and  her  daughter  been  alone,  your  reception 
would  have  been  very  different ;  indeed,  Cecilia's  following 
you  downstairs  proves  that  it  was  not  from  coolness  to- 
wards you  ;  and  Harcourt  calling  upon  you,  and  the  conver- 
sation which  took  place,  is  another  proof  that  you  have  been 
mistaken.' 

'  I  never  viewed  it  in  that  light,  certainly,  sir,'  observed 
I.  'I  merely  perceived  that  I  was  considered  intrusive,  and 
finding  in  the  company  one  who  had  treated  me  ill,  and 
had  been  my  antagonist  in  the  field,  I  naturally  supposed 
that  he  had  prejudiced  them  against  me.  I  hope  I  may 
2  A  353 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

be  wrong ;  but  I  have  seen  so  much  of  the  world,  young  as 
I  am,  that  I  have  become  very  suspicious.' 

'  Then  discard  suspicion  as  fast  as  you  can  ;  it  will  only 
make  you  unhappy,  and  not  prevent  your  being  deceived. 
If  you  are  suspicious,  you  will  have  the  constant  fear  of 
deception  hanging  over  you,  which  poisons  existence.' 

After  these  remarks  I  remained  silent  for  some  time ;  I 
was  analysing  my  own  feelings,  and  I  felt  that  I  had  acted 
in  a  very  absurd  manner.  The  fact  was,  that  one  of  my 
castle  buildings  had  been,  that  I  was  to  marry  Fleta  as 
soon  as  I  had  found  my  own  father,  and  this  it  was  which 
had  actuated  me,  almost  without  my  knowing  it.  I  felt 
jealous  of  Harcourt,  and  that  without  being  in  love  with 
Miss  de  Clare,  but  actually  passionately  fond  of  another 
person  ;  I  felt  as  if  I  could  have  married  her  without  loving 
her,  and  that  I  could  give  up  Susannah  Temple,  whom  I 
did  love,  rather  than  that  a  being  whom  I  considered  as 
almost  of  my  own  creation  should  herself  presume  to  fall 
in  love,  or  that  another  should  dare  to  love  her,  until  I 
had  made  up  my  mind  whether  I  should  take  her  myself; 
and  this  after  so  long  an  absence,  and  their  having  given 
up  all  hopes  of  ever  seeing  me  again.  The  reader  may 
smile  at  the  absurdity,  still  more  at  the  selfishness  of  this 
feeling ;  so  did  I,  when  I  had  reflected  upon  it,  and  I 
despised  myself  for  my  vanity  and  folly. 

'  What  are  you  thinking  of,  Japhet  ? '  observed  Mr. 
Masterton,  tired  with  my  long  abstraction. 

'  That  I  have  been  making  a  most  egregious  fool  of 
myself,  sir,'  replied  I,  '  with  respect  to  the  De  Clares.' 

'  I  did  not  say  so,  Japhet ;  but  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I 
thought  something  very  like  it.  Now  tell  me,  were  you 
not  jealous  at  finding  her  in  company  with  Harcourt  ? ' 

'  Exactly  so,  sir.' 

'  I'll  tell  Susannah  Temple  when  I  see  her,  that  she  may 
form  some  idea  of  your  constancy,'  replied  Mr.  Masterton, 
smiling.  'Why  what  a  dog  in  the  manger  you  must  be — 
you  can't  marry  them  both.  Still,  under  the  circumstances, 
I  can  analyse  the  feeling  —  it  is  natural,  but  all  that  is 
natural  is  not  always  creditable  to  human  nature.  Let  us 
talk  a  little  about  Susannah,  and  all  these  vagaries  will  be 
dispersed.  How  old  is  she  ? ' 

354 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Mr.  Masterton  plied  me  with  so  many  questions  relative 
to  Susannah,  that  her  image  alone  soon  filled  my  mind, 
and  I  recovered  my  spirits.  '  I  don't  know  what  she  will 
say  at  my  being  in  this  dress,  sir,'  observed  I.  l  Had  I 
not  better  change  it  on  my  arrival  ? ' 

*  By  no  means ;  I'll  fight  your  battle  —  I  know  her 
character  pretty  well,  thanks  to  your  raving  about  her.' 


CHAPTER    LXXIII 

Contains  much  learned  argument  upon  broad-brims  and  garments  of 
grey — I  get  the  best  of  it — The  one  great  wish  of  my  life  is  granted 
— I  meet  my  father,  and  a  cold  reception,  very  indicative  of  much 
after-heat. 

WE  arrived  in  good  time  at  Reading,  and,  as  soon  as  we 
alighted  at  the  inn,  we  ordered  dinner,  and  then  walked 
down  to  the  shop,  where  we  found  Timothy  very  busy  tying 
down  and  labelling.  He  was  delighted  to  see  Mr.  Masterton  ; 
and  perceiving  that  I  had  laid  aside  the  Quaker's  dress, 
made  no  scruple  of  indulging  in  his  humour,  making  a 
long  face,  and  tkee-mg  and  thou-va%  Mr.  Masterton  in  a  very 
absurd  manner.  We  desired  him  to  go  to  Mr.  Cophagus, 
and  beg  that  he  would  allow  me  to  bring  Mr.  Masterton  to 
drink  tea,  and  afterwards  to  call  at  the  inn  and  give  us  the 
answer.  We  then  returned  to  our  dinner. 

'Whether  they  will  ever  make  a  Quaker  of  you,  Japhet, 
I  am  very  doubtful,'  observed  Mr.  Masterton,  as  we  walked 
back ;  *  but  as  for  making  one  of  that  fellow  Timothy,  I'll 
defy  them.' 

'  He  laughs  at  everything,'  replied  I,  '  and  views  every- 
thing in  a  ridiculous  light — at  all  events,  they  never  will 
make  him  serious.' 

In  the  evening  we  adjourned  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Cophagus, 
having  received  a  message  of  welcome.  I  entered  the  room 
first.  Susannah  came  forward  to  welcome  me,  and  then 
drew  back,  when  she  perceived  the  alteration  in  my  apparel, 
colouring  deeply.  I  passed  her,  and  took  the  hand  of  Mrs. 
Cophagus  and  her  husband,  and  then  introduced  Mr. 
Masterton. 

355 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'We  hardly  knew  thee,  Japhet,'  mildly  observed  Mrs. 
Cophagus. 

'  I  did  not  think  that  outward  garments  would  disguise 
me  from  my  friends,'  replied  I  ;  '  but  so  it  appeareth,  for 
your  sister  hath  not  even  greeted  me  in  welcome.' 

*  I  greet  thee  in  all  kindness,  and  all  sincerity,  Japhet 
Newland,'  replied  Susannah,  holding  out  her  hand.  'Yet 
did  I  not  imagine  that,  in  so  short  a  time,  thou  wouldst 
have  dismissed  the  apparel  of  our  persuasion,  neither  do  I 
find  it  seemly.' 

(  Miss  Temple,'  interposed  Mr.  Masterton,  '  it  is  to  oblige 
those  who  are  his  sincere  friends,  that  Mr.  Newland  has  laid 
aside  his  dress.  I  quarrel  with  no  creed — every  one  has  a 
right  to  choose  for  himself,  and  Mr.  Newland  has  perhaps  not 
chosen  badly,  in  embracing  your  tenets.  Let  him  continue 
steadfast  in  them.  But,  fair  young  lady,  there  is  no  creed 
which  is  perfect,  and,  even  in  yours,  we  find  imperfection. 
Our  religion  preaches  humility,  and  therefore  we  do  object 
to  his  wearing  the  garb  of  pride.' 

'  Of  pride,  sayest  thou  ?  hath  he  not  rather  put  off 
the  garb  of  humility,  and  now  appeareth  in  the  garb  of 
pride  ? ' 

'  Not  so,  young  madam  :  when  we  dress  as  all  the  world 
dress,  we  wear  not  the  garb  of  pride  ;  but  when  we  put  on 
a  dress  different  from  others,  that  distinguishes  us  from 
others,  then  we  show  our  pride,  and  the  worst  of  pride,  for 
it  is  the  hypocritical  pride  which  apes  humility.  It  is  the 
Pharisee  of  the  Scriptures,  who  preaches  in  high  places, 
and  sounds  forth  his  charity  to  the  poor  ;  not  the  humility 
of  the  Publican,  who  says,  "  Lord,  be  merciful  to  me,  a 
sinner."  Your  apparel  of  pretended  humility  is  the  garb  of 
pride,  and  for  that  reason  have  we  insisted  that  he  discards 
it,  when  with  us.  His  tenets  we  interfere  not  with.  There 
can  be  no  religion  in  dress  ;  and  that  must  indeed  be  weak 
in  itself,  which  requires  dress  for  its  support.' 

Susannah  was  astonished  at  this  new  feature  of  the  case, 
so  aptly  put  by  the  old  lawyer.  Mrs.  Cophagus  looked  at 
her  husband,  and  Cophagus  pinched  my  arm,  evidently  agree- 
ing with  him.  When  Mr.  Masterton  had  finished  speaking, 
Susannah  waited  a  few  seconds,  and  then  replied,  '  It  becomes 
not  one  so  young  and  weak  as  I  am,  to  argue  with  thee, 

356 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

who  art  so  much  my  senior.  I  cannot  cavil  at  opinions 
which,  if  not  correct,  at  least  are  founded  on  the  holy  writings  ; 
but  I  have  been  otherwise  instructed.' 

'Then  let  us  drop  the  argument,  Miss  Susannah,  and 
let  me  tell  you,  that  Japhet  wished  to  resume  his  Quaker's 
dress,  and  I  would  not  permit  him.  If  there  is  any  blame, 
it  is  to  be  laid  to  me ;  and  it's  no  use  being  angry  with  an 
old  man  like  myself.' 

'  I  have  no  right  to  be  angry  with  any  one,'  replied 
Susannah. 

*  But  you  were  angry  with  me,  Susannah,'  interrupted  I. 

'  I  cannot  say  that  it  was  anger,  Japhet  Newland ;  I 
hardly  know  what  the  feeling  might  have  been  ;  but  I  was 
wrong,  and  I  must  request  thy  forgiveness ' ;  and  Susannah 
held  out  her  hand. 

'  Now  you  must  forgive  me  too,  Miss  Temple,'  said  old 
Masterton,  and  Susannah  laughed  against  her  wishes. 

The  conversation  then  became  general.  Mr.  Masterton 
explained  to  Mr.  Cophagus  what  he  required  of  him,  and 
Mr.  Cophagus  immediately  acceded.  It  was  arranged  that 
he  should  go  to  town  by  the  mail  the  next  day.  Mr.  Masterton 
talked  a  great  deal  about  my  father,  and  gave  his  character 
in  its  true  light,  as  he  considered  it  would  be  advantageous 
to  me  so  to  do.  He  then  entered  into  conversation  upon 
a  variety  of  topics,  and  was  certainly  very  amusing.  Susannah 
laughed  very  heartily  before  the  evening  was  over,  and  Mr. 
Masterton  retired  to  the  hotel,  for  I  had  resolved  to  sleep 
in  my  own  bed. 

I  walked  home  with  Mr.  Masterton  :  I  then  returned  to  the 
house,  and  found  them  all  in  the  parlour.  Mrs.  Cophagus 
was  expressing  her  delight  at  the  amusement  she  had  received, 
when  I  entered  with  a  grave  face.  '  I  wish  that  I  had  not 
left  you,'  said  I  to  Mrs.  Cophagus  ;  *  I  am  afraid  to  meet  my 
father ;  he  will  exact  the  most  implicit  obedience.  What  am 
I  to  do  ?  Must  not  I  obey  him  ?' 

*  In  all  things  lawful,'  replied  Susannah,  '  most   certainly, 
Japhet.' 

'  In  all  things  lawful,  Susannah  !  now  tell  me,  in  the  very 
case  of  my  apparel :  Mr.  Masterton  says,  that  he  never  will 
permit  me  to  wear  the  dress.  What  am  I  to  do  ? ' 

'  Thou  hast  thy  religion  and  thy  Bible  for  thy  guide,  Japhet' 

357 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  I  have  ;  and  in  the  Bible  I  find  written  on  tablets  of  stone 
by  the  prophet  of  God,  "  Honour  thy  father  and  thy  mother"  ; 
there  is  a  positive  commandment  :  but  I  find  no  command- 
ment to  wear  this  or  that  dress.  What  think  you  ?'  continued 
I,  appealing  to  them  all. 

'  I  should  bid  thee  honour  thy  father,  Japhet,  replied  Mrs. 
Cophagus,  *  and  you,  Susannah ' 

'  I  shall  bid  thee  good-night,  Japhet.5 

At  this  reply  we  all  laughed,  and  I  perceived  there  was  a 
smile  on  Susannah's  face  as  she  walked  away.  Mrs.  Coph- 
agus followed  her,  laughing  as  she  went,  and  Cophagus  and  I 
were  alone. 

'Well,  Japhet — see  old  gentleman — kiss — shake  hands — 
and  blessing — and  so  on.' 

'  Yes,  sir,'  replied  I  ;  '  but  if  he  treats  me  ill,  I  shall  prob- 
ably come  down  here  again.  I  am  afraid  that  Susannah  is 
not  very  well  pleased  with  me.' 

'  Pooh,  nonsense — wife  knows  all — die  for  you — Japhet,  do 
as  you  please — dress  yourself — dress  her — any  dress — no 
dress  like  Eve — sly  puss — won't  lose  you — all  right — and  so 
on.' 

I  pressed  Mr.  Cophagus  to  tell  me  all  he  knew,  and  I 
found  from  him  that  his  wife  had  questioned  Susannah  soon 
after  my  departure,  had  found  her  weeping,  and  that  she  had 
gained  from  her  the  avowal  of  her  ardent  affection  for  me. 
This  was  all  I  wanted,  and  I  wished  him  good-night,  and  went 
to  bed  happy.  I  had  an  interview  with  Susannah  Temple 
before  I  left  the  next  morning,  and,  although  I  never  mentioned 
love,  had  every  reason  to  be  satisfied.  She  was  kind  and 
affectionate  ;  spoke  to  me  in  her  usual  serious  manner,  warned 
me  against  the  world,  acknowledged  that  I  should  have  great 
difficulties  to  surmount,  and  even  made  much  allowance  for  my 
peculiar  situation.  She  dared  not  advise,  but  she  would  pray 
for  me.  There  was  a  greater  show  of  interest  and  confidence 
towards  me  than  I  had  ever  yet  received  from  her :  when  I 
parted  from  her  I  said,  «  Dear  Susannah,  whatever  change 
may  take  place  in  my  fortunes  or  in  my  dress,  believe  me,  my 
heart  shall  not  be  changed,  and  I  shall  ever  adhere  to  those 
principles  which  have  been  instilled  into  me  since  I  have  been 
in  your  company.' 

This  was  a  phrase  which  admitted  of  a  double  meaning, 

358 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

and  she  replied,  '  I  should  wish  to  see  thee  perfect,  Japhet ; 
but  there  is  no  perfection  now  on  earth  ;  be  therefore  as 
perfect  as  you  can.' 

*  God  bless  you,  Susannah.' 

'  May  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  be  on  you  always,  Japhet,' 
replied  she. 

I  put  my  arm  round  her  waist,  and  slightly  pressed  her  to 
my  bosom.  She  gently  disengaged  herself,  and  her  large 
eyes  glistened  with  tears  as  she  left  the  room.  In  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  I  was  with  Mr.  Masterton  on  the  road  to  London. 

'  Japhet,'  said  the  old  gentleman,  '  I  will  say  that  you 
have  been  very  wise  in  your  choice,  and  that  your  little 
Quaker  is  a  most  lovely  creature  :  I  am  in  love  with  her  my- 
self, and  I  think  she  is  far  superior  in  personal  attractions  to 
Cecilia  de  Clare.' 

'Indeed,  sir!' 

'  Yes,  indeed ;  her  face  is  more  classical,  and  her  com- 
plexion is  unrivalled  ;  as  far  as  my  present  knowledge  and 
experience  go,  she  is  an  emblem  of  purity.' 

'  Her  mind,  sir,  is  as  pure  as  her  person.' 

'  I  believe  it ;  she  has  a  strong  mind,  and  will  think  for 
herself.' 

'  There,  sir,  is,  I  am  afraid,  the  difficulty ;  she  will  not 
yield  a  point  in  which  she  thinks  she  is  right,  not  even  for  her 
love  for  me.' 

1  I  agree  with  you  that  she  will  not,  and  I  admire  her  for 
it  ;  but,  Japhet,  she  will  yield  to  conviction,  and  depend  upon 
it,  she  will  abandon  the  outward  observances  of  her  persuasion. 
Did  you  observe  what  a  spoke  I  put  in  your  wheel  last  night, 
when  I  stated  that  outward  forms  were  pride.  Leave  that  to 
work,  and  I'll  answer  for  the  consequences  :  she  will  not  long 
wear  that  Quaker's  dress.  How  beautiful  she  would  be  if  she 
dressed  like  other  people  !  I  think  I  see  her  now  entering  a 
ball-room.' 

*  But  what   occasions  you  to  think  she  will  abandon  her 
persuasion  ? ' 

'  I  do  not  say  that  she  will  abandon  it,  nor  do  I  wish  her 
to  do  it,  nor  do  I  wish  you  to  do  it,  Japhet.  There  is  much 
beauty  and  much  perfection  in  the  Quaker's  creed.  All  that 
requires  to  be  abandoned  are  the  dress  and  the  ceremonies  of 
the  meetings,  which  are  both  absurdities.  Recollect,  that  Miss 

359 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Temple  has  been  brought  up  as  a  Quaker  ;  she  has,  from  the 
exclusiveness  of  the  sect,  known  no  other  form  of  worship,  and 
never  heard  any  opposition  to  that  which  has  been  inculcated  ; 
but  let  her  once  or  twice  enter  the  Established  Church,  hear 
its  beautiful  ritual,  and  listen  to  a  sound  preacher.  Let  her 
be  persuaded  to  do  that,  which  cannot  be  asking  her  to  do 
wrong,  and  then  let  her  think  and  act  for  herself,  and  my 
word  for  it,  when  she  draws  the  comparison  between  what  she 
has  then  heard  and  the  nonsense  occasionally  uttered  in  the 
Quaker's  conventicle,  by  those  who  fancy  themselves  inspired, 
she  will  herself  feel  that,  although  the  tenets  of  her  persuasion 
may  be  more  in  accordance  with  true  Christianity  than  those 
of  other  sects,  the  outward  forms  and  observances  are  imper- 
fect. I  trust  to  her  own  good  sense.' 

'  You  make  me  very  happy  by  saying  so.' 

'  Well,  that  is  my  opinion  of  her,  and  if  she  proves  me  to 
be  correct,  hang  me  if  I  don't  think  I  shall  adopt  her.' 

'  What  do  you  think  of  Mrs.  Cophagus,  sir  ? ' 

*  I  think  she  is  no  more  a  Quaker  in  her  heart  than  I  am. 
She  is  a  lively,  merry,  kind-hearted  creature,  and  would  have 
no  objection  to  appear  in  feathers  and  diamonds  to-morrow.} 

*  Well,  sir,  I  can  tell  you  that  Mr.  Cophagus  still  sighs  after 
his  blue  cotton  net  pantaloons  and  Hessian  boots.' 

'  More  fool  he  !  but,  however,  I  am  glad  of  it,  for  it  gives 
me  an  idea  which  I  shall  work  upon  by  and  by ;  at  present 
we  have  this  eventful  meeting  between  you  and  your  father  to 
occupy  us.' 

We  arrived  in  town  in  time  for  dinner,  which  Mr. 
Masterton  had  ordered  at  his  chambers.  As  the  old  gentle- 
man was  rather  tired  with  his  two  days'  travelling,  I  wished 
him  good-night  at  an  early  hour. 

'  Recollect,  Japhet,  we  are  to  be  at  the  Adelphi  Hotel 
to-morrow  at  one  o'clock — come  in  time.' 

I  called  upon  Mr.  Masterton  at  the  time  appointed  on  the 
ensuing  day,  and  we  drove  to  the  hotel  in  which  my  father 
had  located  himself.  On  our  arrival,  we  were  ushered  into  a 
room  on  the  ground-floor,  where  we  found  Mr.  Cophagus  and 
two  of  the  governors  of  the  Foundling  Hospital. 

'  Really,  Mr.  Masterton,'  said  one  of  the  latter  gentlemen, 
'  one  would  think  that  we  were  about  to  have  an  audience  with 
a  sovereign  prince,  and,  instead  of  conferring  favours,  were 

360 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

about  to  receive  them.  My  time  is  precious :  I  ought  to 
have  been  in  the  city  this  half-hour,  and  here  is  this  old  nabob 
keeping  us  waiting  as  if  we  were  petitioners.' 

Mr.  Masterton  laughed  and  said,  *  Let  us  all  go  upstairs, 
and  not  wait  to  be  sent  for.' 

He  called  one  of  the  waiters,  and  desired  him  to  announce 
them  to  General  De  Benyon.  They  then  followed  the  waiter, 
leaving  me  alone.  I  must  say,  that  I  was  a  little  agitated  ;  I 
heard  the  door  open  above,  and  then  an  angry  growl  like  that 
of  a  wild  beast ;  the  door  closed  again  and  all  was  quiet. 
'  And  this,'  thought  I,  *  is  the  result  of  all  my  fond  anticipa- 
tions, of  my  ardent  wishes,  of  my  enthusiastic  search.  In- 
stead of  expressing  anxiety  to  receive  his  son,  he  litigiously 
requires  proofs,  and  more  proofs,  when  he  has  received  every 
satisfactory  proof  already.  They  say  his  temper  is  violent 
beyond  control,  and  that  submission  irritates  instead  of  appeas- 
ing him  :  what  then  if  I  resent  ?  I  have  heard  that  people  of 
that  description  are  to  be  better  met  with  their  own  weapons  : 
— suppose  I  try  it ; — but  no,  I  have  no  right : — I  will  how- 
ever be  firm,  and  keep  my  temper  under  every  circumstance  : 
I  will  show  him,  at  least,  that  his  son  has  -the  spirit  and  the 
feelings  of  a  gentleman.' 

As  these  thoughts  passed  in  my  mind  the  door  opened,  and 
Mr.  Masterton  requested  me  to  follow  him.  I  obeyed  with  a 
palpitating  heart ;  and  when  I  had  gained  the  landing-place 
upstairs,  Mr.  Masterton  took  my  hand  and  led  me  into  the 
presence  of  my  long-sought-for  and  much-dreaded  parent.  I 
may  as  well  describe  him  and  the  whole  tableau.  The  room 
was  long  and  narrow,  and,  at  the  farther  end,  was  a  large  sofa, 
on  which  was  seated  my  father  with  his  injured  leg  reposing 
on  it,  his  crutches  propped  against  the  wall.  On  each  side 
of  him  were  two  large  poles  and  stands,  each  with  a  magnificent 
macaw.  Next  to  the  macaws  were  two  native  servants,  arrayed 
in  their  muslin  dresses,  with  their  arms  folded.  A  hooka  was 
in  advance  of  the  table  before  the  sofa  ;  it  was  magnificently 
wrought  in  silver,  and  the  snake  passed  under  the  table,  so 
that  the  tube  was  within  my  honoured  father's  reach.  On  one 
side  of  the  room  sat  the  two  governors  of  the  Foundling 
Hospital,  on  the  other  was  seated  Mr.  Cophagus  in  his 
Quaker's  dress  ;  the  empty  chair  next  to  him  had  been  occupied 
by  Mr.  Masterton.  I  looked  at  my  father :  he  was  a  man  of 

361 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

great  size,  apparently  six  feet  three  or  four  inches,  and  stout 
in  proportion,  without  being  burdened  with  fat :  he  was  gaunt, 
broad-shouldered  and  muscular,  and,  I  think,  must  have 
weighed  seventeen  or  eighteen  stone.  His  head  was  in  pro- 
portion to  his  body,  and  very  large  ;  so  were  all  his  features 
upon  the  same  grand  scale.  His  complexion  was  of  a  brownish- 
yellow,  and  his  hair  of  a  snowy  white.  He  wore  his  whiskers 
very  large  and  joined  together  under  the  throat,  and  these, 
which  were  also  white,  from  the  circle  which  they  formed  round 
his  face,  and  contrasting  with  the  colour  of  his  skin,  gave  his 
tout  ensemble  much  more  the  appearance  of  a  royal  Bengal 
tiger  than  a  gentleman.  General  de  Benyon  saw  Mr.  Masterton 
leading  me  forward  to  within  a  pace  or  two  of  the  table  before 
him.  —  'Allow  me  the  pleasure  of  introducing  your  son, 
Japhet.' 

There  was  no  hand  extended  to  welcome  me.  My  father 
fixed  his  proud  grey  eyes  upon  me  for  a  moment,  and  then 
turned  to  the  governors  of  the  hospital. 

*  Is  this  the  person,  gentlemen,  whom  you  received  as  an 
infant  and  brought  up  as  Japhet  Newland  ? ' 

The  governors  declared  I  was  the  same  person  ;  that  they 
had  bound  me  to  Mr.  Cophagus,  and  had  seen  me  more  than 
once  since  I  quitted  the  Asylum. 

'  Is  this  the  Japhet  Newland  whom  you  received  from  these 
gentlemen  and  brought  up  to  your  business  ? ' 

*  Yea,  and  verily — I  do  affirm  the  same — smart  lad — good 
boy — and  so  on.' 

'  I  will  not  take  a  Quaker's  affirmation — will  you  take  your 
oath,  sir  ? ' 

'  Yes,'  replied  Cophagus,  forgetting  his  Quakership  ;  '  take 
oath — bring  Bible — kiss  book — and  so  on.' 

*  You,  then,  as  a  Quaker,  have  no  objection  to  swear  to  the 
identity  of  this  person  ? ' 

'Swear,'  cried  Cophagus,  'yes,  swear — swear  now — not 
Japhet ! — I'm  damned — go  to  hell — and  so  on.' 

The  other  parties  present  could  not  help  laughing  at  this 
explosion  from  Cophagus,  neither  could  I.  Mr.  Masterton 
then  asked  the  general  if  he  required  any  more  proofs. 

'  No,'  replied  the  general  discourteously  ;  and  speaking  in 
Hindostanee  to  his  attendants,  they  walked  to  the  door  and 
opened  it.  The  hint  was  taken,  Mr.  Masterton  saying  to  the 

362 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

others  in  an  ironical  tone,  *  After  so  long  a  separation,  gentle- 
men, it  must  be  natural  that  the  general  should  wish  to  be  left 
alone,  that  he  may  give  vent  to  his  paternal  feelings.' 


CHAPTER    LXXIV 

Father  and  I  grow  warm  in  our  argument — Obliged  to  give  him  a  little 
schooling  to  show  my  affection — Takes  it  at  last  very  kindly,  and 
very  dutifully  owns  himself  a  fool. 

IN  the  meantime,  I  was  left  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room: 
the  gentlemen  departed,  and  the  two  native  servants  resumed 
their  stations  on  each  side  of  the  sofa.  I  felt  humiliated  and 
indignant,  but  waited  in  silence  ;  at  last,  my  honoured  parent, 
who  had  eyed  me  for  some  time,  commenced  : — 

'  If  you  think,  young  man,  to  win  my  favour  by  your  good 
looks,  you  are  very  much  mistaken  :  you  are  too  like  your 
mother,  whose  memory  is  anything  but  agreeable.' 

The  blood  mounted  to  my  forehead  at  this  cruel  observation ; 
I  folded  my  arms  and  looked  my  father  steadfastly  in  the  face, 
but  made  no  reply.  The  choler  of  the  gentleman  was  raised. 

*  It  appears  that  I  have  found  a  most  dutiful  son.' 

I  was  about  to  make  an  angry  answer,  when  I  recollected 
myself,  and  I  courteously  replied,  '  My  dear  general,  depend 
upon  it  that  your  son  will  always  be  ready  to  pay  duty  to  whom 
duty  is  due  ;  but  excuse  me,  in  the  agitation  of  this  meeting 
you  have  forgotten  those  little  attentions  which  courtesy  de- 
mands :  with  your  permission  I  will  take  a  chair,  and  then  we 
may  converse  more  at  our  ease.  I  hope  your  leg  is  better.' 

I  said  this  with  the  blandest  voice  and  the  most  studied 
politeness,  and  drawing  a  chair  towards  the  table,  I  took  my 
seat ;  as  I  expected,  it  put  my  honoured  father  in  a  tremendous 
rage. 

'  If  this  is  a  specimen,  sir,  of  your  duty  and  respect,  sir,  I 
hope  to  see  no  more  of  them.  To  whom  your  duty  is  due,  sir ! 
— and  pray  to  whom  is  it  due,  sir,  if  not  to  the  author  of  your 
existence  ? '  cried  the  general,  striking  the  table  before  him 
with  his  enormous  fist,  so  as  to  make  the  ink  fly  out  of  the  stand 
some  inches  high  and  bespatter  the  papers  near  it. 

36.3 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  My  dear  father,  you  are  perfectly  correct :  duty,  as  you 
say,  is  due  to  the  author  of  our  existence.  If  I  recollect  right, 
the  commandment  says,  "Honour  your  father  and  your  mother" ; 
but  at  the  same  time,  if  I  may  venture  to  offer  an  observation, 
are  there  not  such  things  as  reciprocal  duties — some  which  are 


'  I  folded  my  arms  and  looked  my  father  steadfastly  in  the  face.' 

even  more  paramount  in  a  father  than  the  mere  begetting  of  a 
son?' 

'  What  do  you  mean,  sir,  by  these  insolent  remarks  ? 5  in- 
terrupted my  father. 

'  Excuse  me,  my  dear  father,  I  may  be  wrong,  but  if  so,  I 

364 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

will  bow  to  your  superior  judgment ;  but  it  does  appear  to  me, 
that  the  mere  hanging  me  in  a  basket  at  the  gate  of  the 
Foundling  Hospital,  and  leaving  me  a  bank-note  of  fifty  pounds 
to  educate  and  maintain  me  until  the  age  of  twenty-four,  are 
not  exactly  all  the  duties  incumbent  upon  a  parent.  If  you 
think  that  they  are,  I  am  afraid  that  the  world,  as  well  as 
myself,  will  be  of  a  different  opinion.  Not  that  I  intend  to 
make  any  complaint,  as  I  feel  assured  that  now  circumstances 
have  put  it  in  your  power,  it  is  your  intention  to  make  me 
amends  for  leaving  me  so  long  in  a  state  of  destitution,  and 
wholly  dependent  upon  my  own  resources.' 

'  You  do,  do  you,  sir  ?  well,  now,  I'll  tell  you  my  resolution, 
which  is — There  is  the  door — go  out,  and  never  let  me  see 
your  face  again.' 

'  My  dear  father,  as  I  am  convinced  this  is  only  a  little 
pleasantry  on  your  part,  or  perhaps  a  mere  trial  whether  I  am 
possessed  of  the  spirit  and  determination  of  a  De  Benyon,  I 
shall,  of  course,  please  you  by  not  complying  with  your 
humorous  request.' 

'  Won't  you,  by  G — d  ?  '  roared  my  father  ;  then  turning  to 
his  two  native  servants,  he  spoke  to  them  in  Hindostanee. 
They  immediately  walked  to  the  door,  threw  it  wide  open,  and 
then  coming  back  to  me,  were  about  to  take  me  by  the  arms. 
I  certainly  felt  my  blood  boil,  but  I  recollected  how  necessary 
it  was  to  keep  my  temper.  I  rose  from  my  chair,  and  ad- 
vancing to  the  side  of  the  sofa  I  said — 

'  My  dear  father,  as  I  perceive  that  you  do  not  require 
your  crutches  at  this  moment,  you  will  not  perhaps  object  to 
my  taking  one.  These  foreign  scoundrels  must  not  be  per- 
mitted to  insult  you  through  the  person  of  your  only  son.' 

'  Turn  him  out,'  roared  my  father. 

The  natives  advanced,  but  I  whirled  the  crutch  round  my 
head,  and  in  a  moment  they  were  both  prostrate.  As  soon  as 
they  gained  their  feet,  I  attacked  them  again,  until  they  made 
their  escape  out  of  the  room  ;  I  then  shut  the  door  and  turned 
the  key. 

'  Thank  you,  my  dear  sir,'  said  I,  returning  the  crutch  to 
where  it  was  before.  *  Many  thanks  for  thus  permitting  me 
to  chastise  the  insolence  of  these  black  scoundrels,  whom,  I 
take  it  for  granted,  you  will  immediately  discharge '  ;  and  I 
again  took  my  seat  in  the  chair,  bringing  it  closer  to  him. 

365 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

The  rage  of  the  general  was  now  beyond  all  bounds  ;  the 
white  foam  was  spluttered  out  of  his  mouth,  as  he  in  vain 
endeavoured  to  find  words.  Once  he  actually  rose  from  the 
sofa,  to  take  the  law  in  his  own  hands,  but  the  effort  seriously 
injured  his  leg,  and  he  threw  himself  down  in  pain  and 
disappointment. 

'  My  dear  father,  I  am  afraid  that,  in  your  anxiety  to  help 
me,  you  have  hurt  your  leg  again,'  said  I,  in  a  soothing  voice. 

'  Sirrah,  sirrah,'  exclaimed  he  at  last,  '  if  you  think  that 
this  will  do,  you  are  very  much  mistaken.  You  don't  know 
me.  You  may  turn  out  a  couple  of  cowardly  blacks,  but  now 
I'll  show  you  that  I  am  not  to  be  played  with.  I  discard  you 
for  ever — I  disinherit — I  disacknowledge  you.  You  may  take 
your  choice,  either  to  quit  this  room,  or  be  put  into  the  hands 
of  the  police.' 

*  The  police,  my  dear  sir  !  What  can  the  police  do  ?  I 
may  call  in  the  police  for  the  assault  just  committed  by  your 
servants,  and  have  them  up  to  Bow  Street,  but  you  cannot 
charge  me  with  an  assault.' 

'  But  I  will,  by  G — d,  sir,  true  or  not  true.' 

'  Indeed  you  would  not,  my  dear  father.  A  De  Benyon 
would  never  be  guilty  of  a  lie.  Besides,  if  you  were  to  call  in 
the  police  ; — I  wish  to  argue  this  matter  coolly,  because  I 
ascribe  your  present  little  burst  of  ill-humour  to  your  sufferings 
from  your  unfortunate  accident.  Allowing,  then,  my  dear 
father,  that  you  were  to  charge  me  with  an  assault,  I  should 
immediately  be  under  the  necessity  of  charging  you  also,  and 
then  we  must  both  go  to  Bow  Street  together.  Were  you 
ever  at  Bow  Street,  general  ? '  The  general  made  no  reply, 
and  I  proceeded.  f  Besides,  my  dear  sir,  only  imagine  how 
very  awkward  it  would  be  when  the  magistrate  put  you  on 
your  oath,  and  asked  you  to  make  your  charge.  What  would 
you  be  obliged  to  declare  ?  That  you  had  married  when 
young,  and  finding  that  your  wife  had  no  fortune,  had 
deserted  her  the  second  day  after  your  marriage.  That  you, 
an  officer  in  the  army,  and  the  Honourable  Captain  De 
Benyon,  had  hung  up  your  child  at  the  gates  of  the  Foundling 
Hospital — that  you  had  again  met  your  wife,  married  to 
another,  and  had  been  an  accomplice  in  concealing  her  capital 
offence  of  bigamy,  and  had  had  meetings  with  her,  although 
she  belonged  to  another.  I  say  meetings,  for  you  did  meet 

366 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

her,  to  receive  her  directions  about  me.  I  am  charitable,  and 
suspect  nothing — others  will  not  be  so.  Then,  after  her 
death,  you  come  home  and  inquire  about  your  son.  His 
identity  is  established — and  what  then  ?  not  only  you  do  not 
take  him  by  the  hand,  in  common  civility,  I  might  say,  but 
you  first  try  to  turn  him  out  of  the  house,  and  to  give  him  in 
charge  of  the  police  ;  and  then  you  will  have  to  state  for  what. 
Perhaps  you  will  answer  me  that  question,  for  I  really  do  not 
know.' 

By  this  time,  my  honoured  father's  wrath  had,  to  a  certain 
degree,  subsided  :  he  heard  all  I  had  to  say,  and  he  felt  how 
very  ridiculous  would  have  been  his  intended  proceedings, 
and,  as  his  wrath  subsided,  so  did  his  pain  increase  :  he  had 
seriously  injured  his  leg,  and  it  was  swelling  rapidly — the 
bandages  tightened  in  consequence,  and  he  was  suffering 
under  the  acutest  pain.  '  Oh,  oh  ! '  groaned  he. 

'  My  dear  father,  can  I  assist  you  ? ' 

'  Ring  the  bell,  sir.' 

'  There  is  no  occasion  to  summon  assistance  while  I  am 
here,  my  dear  general.  I  can  attend  you  professionally,  and 
if  you  will  allow  me,  will  soon  relieve  your  pain.  Your  leg 
has  swollen  from  exertion,  and  the  bandages  must  be 
loosened.' 

He  made  no  reply,  but  his  features  were  distorted  by 
extreme  pain.  I  went  to  him  and  proceeded  to  unloose  the 
bandages,  which  gave  him  considerable  relief.  I  then  replaced 
them,  secundum  artem,  and  with  great  tenderness,  and  going 
to  the  sideboard,  took  the  lotion  which  was  standing  there 
with  the  other  bottles,  and  wetted  the  bandages.  In  a  few 
minutes  he  was  quite  relieved.  'Perhaps,  sir,'  said  I,  'you 
had  better  try  to  sleep  a  little.  I  will  take  a  book,  and  shall 
have  great  pleasure  in  watching  by  your  side.' 

Exhausted  with  pain  and  violence,  the  general  made  no 
reply ;  he  fell  back  on  the  sofa,  and,  in  a  short  time,  he 
snored  most  comfortably.  '  I  have  conquered  you,'  thought 
I,  as  I  watched  him  as  he  lay  asleep.  '  If  I  have  not  yet,  I 
will,  that  I  am  resolved.'  I  walked  gently  to  the  door, 
unlocked  it,  and  opening  it  without  waking  him,  ordered  some 
broth  to  be  brought  up  immediately,  saying  that  the  general  was 
asleep,  and  that  I  would  wait  for  it  outside.  I  accomplished 
this  little  manoeuvre,  and  reclosed  the  door  without  waking 

367 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

my  father,  and  then  I  took  my  seat  in  the  chair,  and  resumed 
my  book,  having  placed  the  broth  on  the  side  of  the  fire  grate 
to  keep  it  warm.  In  about  an  hour  he  awoke,  and  looked 
around  him. 

'  Do  you  want  anything,  my  dearest  father  ? '  inquired  I. 

The  general  appeared  undecided  as  to  whether  to  re- 
commence hostilities ;  but  at  last  he  said,  *  I  wish  the 
attendance  of  my  servants,  sir.' 

'  The  attendance  of  a  servant  can  never  be  equal  to  that  of 
your  own  son,  general,'  replied  I,  going  to  the  fire,  and  taking 
the  basin  of  broth,  which  I  replaced  upon  the  tray  containing 
the  et  ceteras  on  a  napkin.  '  I  expected  you  would  require 
your  broth,  and  I  have  had  it  ready  for  you.' 

'  It  was  what  I  did  require,  sir,  I  must  acknowledge,' 
replied  my  father,  and  without  further  remark  he  finished  the 
broth. 

I  removed  the  tray,  and  then  went  for  the  lotion,  and 
again  wetted  the  bandages  on  his  leg.  '  Is  there  anything 
else  I  can  do  for  you,  sir  ? '  said  I. 

'  Nothing — I  am  very  comfortable.3 

'  Then,  sir,'  replied  I,  '  I  will  now  take  my  leave.  You 
have  desired  me  to  quit  your  presence  for  ever ;  and  you 
attempted  force.  I  resisted  that,  because  I  would  not  allow 
you  to  have  the  painful  remembrance  that  you  had  injured 
one  who  had  strong  claims  upon  you,  and  had  never  injured 
you.  I  resented  it  also,  because  I  wished  to  prove  to  you 
that  I  was  a  De  Benyon,  and  had  spirit  to  resist  an  insult. 
But,  general,  if  you  imagine  that  I  have  come  here  with  a 
determination  of  forcing  myself  upon  you,  you  are  much 
mistaken.  I  am  too  proud,  and  happily  am  independent  by 
my  own  exertions,  so  as  not  to  require  your  assistance.  Had 
you  received  me  kindly,  believe  me,  you  would  have  found  a 
grateful  and  affectionate  heart  to  have  met  that  kindness. 
You  would  have  found  a  son,  whose  sole  object  through  life 
has  been  to  discover  a  father,  after  whom  he  has  yearned, 
who  would  have  been  delighted  to  have  administered  to  his 
wants,  to  have  yielded  to  his  wishes,  to  have  soothed  him  in 
his  pain,  and  to  have  watched  him  in  his  sickness.  Deserted 
as  I  have  been  for  so  many  years,  I  trust  that  I  have  not 
disgraced  you,  General  De  Benyon  ;  and  if  ever  I  have  done 
wrong,  it  has  been  from  a  wish  to  discover  you.  I  can  appeal 

368 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

to  Lord  Windermear  for  the  truth  of  that  assertion.  Allow 
me  to  say,  that  it  is  a  very  severe  trial — an  ordeal  which  few 
pass  through  with  safety — to  be  thrown  as  I  have  been  upon 
the  world,  with  no  friend,  no  parent  to  assist  or  to  advise  me, 
to  have  to  bear  up  against  the  contingency  of  being  of 
unacknowledged  and  perhaps  disgraceful  birth.  It  is  harder 
still,  when  I  expected  to  find  my  dearest  wishes  realised,  that, 
without  any  other  cause  than  that  of  my  features  resembling 
those  of  my  mother,  I  am  to  be  again  cast  away.  One  thing, 
General  De  Benyon,  I  request,  and  I  trust  it  will  not  be 
denied,  which  is,  that  I  may  assume  the  name  which  I  am 
entitled  to.  I  pledge  you  that  I  never  will  disgrace  it.  And 
now,  sir,  asking  and  expecting  no  more,  I  take  my  leave,  and 
you  may  be  assured,  that  neither  poverty,  privation,  nor 
affliction  of  any  kind,  will  ever  induce  me  to  again  intrude 
into  your  presence.  General  De  Benyon,  farewell  for  ever.' 

I  made  my  father  a  profound  bow,  and  was  quitting  the  room. 

'  Stop,  sir,'  said  the  general.  '  Stop  one  moment,  if  you 
please.' 

I  obeyed. 

'  Why  did  you  put  me  out  of  temper  ?     Answer  me  that.' 

'  Allow  me  to  observe,  sir,  that  I  did  not  put  you  out  of 
temper ;  and  what  is  more,  that  I  never  lost  my  own  temper 
during  the  insult  and  injury  which  I  so  undeservedly  and 
unexpectedly  have  received.' 

'  But  that  very  keeping  your  temper  made  me  more  angry, 
sir.' 

*  That  is  very  possible ;  but  surely  I  was  not  to  blame. 
The  greatest  proof  of  a  perfect  gentleman  is,  that  he  is  able  to 
command  his  temper,  and  I  wished  you  to  acknowledge  that  I 
was  not  without  such  pretensions.' 

'  That  is  as  much  as  to  say  that  your  father  is  no  gentle- 
man ;  and  this,  I  presume,  is  a  specimen  of  your  filial  duty,' 
replied  the  general,  warmly. 

'  Far  from  it,  sir ;  there  are  many  gentlemen  who,  un- 
fortunately, cannot  command  their  tempers,  and  are  more  to 
be  pitied  than  blamed  for  it  ;  but,  sir,  when  such  happens  to 
be  the  case,  they  invariably  redeem  their  error,  and  amply  so, 
by  expressing  their  sorrow,  and  offering  an  apology.' 

'  That  is  as  much  as  to  say,  that  you  expect  me  to  apologise 
to  you.' 

2  B  369 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'Allow  me,    sir,  to  ask    you,    did    you    ever    know    a    De 
Benyon  submit  to  an  insult  ? ' 
'  No,  sir,  I  trust  not.' 

*  Then,  sir,  those  whose  feelings  of  pride  will   not   allow 
them  to  submit  to  an  insult  ought  never  to  insult  others.      If, 
in  the  warmth  of  the  moment,  they  have  done  so,  that  pride 
should  immediately  induce  them  to  offer  an  apology,  not  only 
due  to  the  party,  but  to  their  own  characters.     There  is  no 
disgrace  in  making  an  apology  when  we  are  in  error,  but  there 
is  a  great   disgrace  in  withholding  such   an  act  of  common 
justice  and  reparation.' 

4 1  presume  I  am  to  infer  from  all  this,  that  you  expect  an 
apology  from  me  ? ' 

'  General  De  Benyon,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned,  that  is 
now  of  little  importance ;  we  part,  and  shall  probably  never 
meet  again  ;  if  you  think  that  it  would  make  you  feel  more 
comfortable,  I  am  willing  to  receive  it.' 

'  I  must  suppose  by  that  observation,  that  you  fully  expect 
it,  and  otherwise  will  not  stay  ? ' 

'  I  never  had  a  thought  of  staying,  general ;  you  have  told 
me  that  you  have  disinherited  and  discarded  me  for  ever ;  no 
one  with  the  feelings  of  a  man  would  ever  think  of  remaining 
after  such  a  declaration.' 

'  Upon  what  terms,  then,  sir,  am  I  to  understand  that  you 
will  consent  to  remain  with  me,  and  forget  all  that  has 
passed?' 

( My  terms  are  simple,  general ;  you  must  say  that  you 
retract  what  you  have  said,  and  are  very  sorry  for  having 
insulted  me.' 

'  And  without  I  do  that,  you  will  never  come  here  again  ? ' 

'  Most  decidedly  not,  sir.  I  shall  always  wish  you  well, 
pray  for  your  happiness,  be  sorry  at  your  death,  and  attend 
your  funeral  as  chief  mourner,  although  you  disinherit  me. 
That  is  my  duty,  in  return  for  my  having  taken  your  name, 
and  your  having  acknowledged  that  I  am  your  son  ;  but  live 
with  you,  or  even  see  you  occasionally,  I  will  not,  after  what 
has  passed  this  day,  without  you  make  me  an  apology.' 

'  I  was  not  aware  that  it  was  necessary  for  a  father  to 
apologise  to  his  son.' 

*  If  you  wrong  a  stranger,  you  offer  an  apology  ;  how  much 
more  is  it  due  to  a  near  relation  ? ' 

370 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

c  But  a  parent  has  claims  upon  his  own  son,  sir,  for  which 
he  is  bound  to  tender  his  duty.3 

*  I  grant  it,  in  the  ordinary  course  of  things  in  this  life  ; 
but,  General  De  Benyon,  what  claims  have  you  as  a  parent 
upon  me  ?  A  son  in  most  cases  is  indebted  to  his  parents 
for  their  care  and  attention  in  infancy — his  education — his 
religious  instruction  —  his  choice  of  a  profession,  and  his 
advancement  in  life,  by  their  exertions  and  interest ;  and  when 
they  are  called  away,  he  has  a  reasonable  expectation  of  their 
leaving  him  a  portion  of  their  substance.  They  have  a  heavy 
debt  of  gratitude  to  pay  for  what  they  have  received,  and 
they  are  further  checked  by  the  hopes  of  what  they  may  here- 
after receive.  Up  to  this  time,  sir,  I  have  not  received  the 
first,  and  this  day  I  am  told  that  I  need  not  expect  the  last. 
Allow  me  to  ask  you,  General  De  Benyon,  upon  what  grounds 
you  claim  from  me  a  filial  duty  ?  certainly  not  for  benefits 
received,  or  for  benefits  in  expectation  ;  but  I  feel  that  I  am 
intruding,  and  therefore,  sir,  once  more,  with  every  wish  for 
your  happiness,  I  take  my  leave.' 

I  went  out,  and  had  half  closed  the  door  after  me,  when 
the  general  cried  out,  '  Stop — don't  go — Japhet — my  son — I 
was  in  a  passion — I  beg  your  pardon — don't  mind  what  I  said 
— I'm  a  passionate  old  fool.' 

As  he  uttered  this  in  broken  sentences,  I  returned  to  him. 
He  held  out  his  hand.  '  Forgive,  me,  boy — forgive  your 
father.'  I  knelt  down  and  kissed  his  hand ;  he  drew  me 
towards  him,  and  I  wept  upon  his  bosom. 


CHAPTER    LXXV 

Father  still  dutifully  submissive  at  home — Abroad,  I  am  splitting  a  straw 
in  arguments  with  Susannah  about  straw  bonnets — The  rest  of  the 
chapter  contains  coquetry,  courting,  and  costumes. 

IT  was  some  time  before  we  were  sufficiently  composed  to 
enter  into  conversation,  and  then  I  tried  my  utmost  to  please 
him.  Still  there  was  naturally  a  restraint  on  both  sides,  but 
I  was  so  particular  and  devoted  in  my  attentions,  so  careful  of 
giving  offence,  that  when  he  complained  of  weariness,  and  a 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

wish  to  retire,  he  stipulated  that  I  should  be  with  him  to 
breakfast  on  the  next  morning. 

I  hastened  to  Mr.  Masterton,  although  it  was  late,  to 
communicate  to  him  all  that  had  passed :  he  heard  me  with 
great  interest.  '  Japhet,'  said  he,  '  you  have  done  well — it  is 
the  proudest  day  of  your  life.  You  have  completely  mastered 
him.  The  royal  Bengal  tiger  is  tamed.  I  wish  you  joy,  my 
dear  fellow.  Now  I  trust  that  all  will  be  well.  But  keep  your 
own  counsel ;  do  not  let  this  be  known  at  Reading.  Let  them 
still  imagine  that  your  father  is  as  passionate  as  ever,  which 
he  will  be,  by  the  bye,  with  everybody  else.  You  have  still  to 
follow  up  your  success,  and  leave  me  to  help  you  in  other 
matters.' 

I  returned  home  to  the  Piazza,  and,  thankful  to  Heaven 
for  the  events  of  the  day,  I  soon  fell  fast  asleep,  and  dreamt 
of  Susannah  Temple.  The  next  morning  I  was  early  at  the 
Adelphi  Hotel ;  my  father  had  not  yet  risen,  but  the  native 
servants  who  passed  in  and  out,  attending  upon  him,  and  who 
took  care  to  give  me  a  wide  berth,  had  informed  him  that 
*  Burra  Saib's '  son  was  come,  and  he  sent  for  me.  His  leg 
was  very  painful  and  uncomfortable,  and  the  surgeon  had  not 
yet  made  his  appearance.  I  arranged  it  as  before,  and  he 
then  dressed,  and  came  out  to  breakfast.  I  had  said  nothing 
before  the  servants,  but  as  soon  as  he  was  comfortable  on  the 
sofa,  I  took  his  hand,  and  kissed  it,  saying,  '  Good  morning, 
my  dear  father ;  I  hope  you  do  not  repent  of  your  kindness 
to  me  yesterday.' 

*  No,  no  ;  God  bless  you,  boy.  I've  been  thinking  of  you 
all  night.' 

'  All's  right,'  thought  I  ;  '  and  I  trust  to  be  able  to  keep 
it  so.' 

I  shall  pass  over  a  fortnight,  during  which  I  was  in 
constant  attendance  upon  my  father.  At  times  he  would  fly 
out  in  a  most  violent  manner,  but  I  invariably  kept  my  temper, 
and  when  it  was  all  over,  would  laugh  at  him,  generally  re- 
peating and  acting  all  which  he  had  said  and  done  during  his 
paroxysm.  I  found  this  rather  dangerous  ground  at  first,  but 
by  degrees  he  became  used  to  it,  and  it  was  wonderful  how  it 
acted  as  a  check  upon  him.  He  would  not  at  first  believe  but 
that  I  exaggerated,  when  the  picture  was  held  up  to  his  view 
and  he  was  again  calm.  My  father  was  not  naturally  a  bad- 

372 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

tempered  man,  but  having  been  living  among  a  servile  race, 
and  holding  high  command  in  the  army,  he  had  gradually 
acquired  a  habit  of  authority  and  an  impatience  of  contra- 
diction which  was  unbearable  to  all  around.  Those  who  were 
high-spirited  and  sensitive  shunned  him  ;  the  servile  and  the 
base  continued  with  him  for  their  own  interests,  but  trembled 
at  his  wrath.  I  had  during  this  time  narrated  to  my  father 
the  events  of  my  life,  and,  I  am  happy  to  say,  had,  by  attention 
and  kindness  joined  with  firmness  and  good  temper,  acquired 
a  dominion  over  him.  I  had  at  his  request  removed  to  the 
hotel,  and  lived  with  him  altogether.  His  leg  was  rapidly 
arriving  to  a  state  of  convalescence,  and  he  now  talked  of 
taking  a  house  and  setting  up  his  establishment  in  London.  I 
had  seen  but  little  of  Mr.  Masterton  during  this  time,  as  I  had 
remained  in-doors  in  attendance  upon  the  general.  I  had 
written  once  to  Mr.  Cophagus,  stating  how  I  was  occupied, 
but  saying  nothing  about  our  reconciliation.  One  morning, 
Mr.  Masterton  called  upon  us,  and  after  a  little  conversation 
with  the  general,  he  told  me  that  he  had  persuaded  Mr. 
Cophagus  and  his  wife  to  leave  Reading  and  come  to  London, 
and  that  Susannah  Temple  was  to  come  with  them. 

'  On  a  visit  ?'  inquired  I. 

'  No,  not  on  a  visit.  I  have  seen  Cophagus,  and  he  is 
determined  to  cut  the  Quakers,  and  reside  in  London  alto- 
gether.3 

'  What !  does  he  intend  to  return  to  the  pomps  and  vanities 
of  this  wicked  world  ? ' 

'Yes,  I  believe  so,  and  his  wife  will  join  him.  She  has 
no  objection  to  decorate  her  pretty  person.' 

1 1  never  thought  that  she  had — but  Susannah  Temple ' 

'  When  Susannah  is  away  from  her  friends,  when  she  finds 
that  her  sister  and  brother-in-law  no  longer  wear  the  dress, 
and  when  she  is  constantly  in  your  company,  to  all  which 
please  to  add  the  effect  I  trust  of  my  serious  admonitions,  she 
will  soon  do  as  others  do,  or  she  is  no  woman.  This  is  all 
my  plan,  and  leave  it  to  me — only  play  your  part  by  seeing 
as  much  of  her  as  you  can.' 

'  You  need  not  fear  that,'  replied  I. 

'  Does  your  father  know  of  your  attachment  ? '  inquired 
Mr.  Masterton. 

'  No,   I    passed   her   over  without   mentioning  her  name,' 

373 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

replied  I.  '  It  is  too  soon  yet  to  talk  to  him  about  my 
marrying ;  in  fact,  the  proposal  must,  if  possible,  come  from 
him.  Could  not  you  manage  that  ? ' 

*  Yes,  I  will  if  I  can  ;  but,  as  you  say,  wait  awhile.      Here 
is  their  address — you  must  call  to-morrow,  if  you  can  ;  and  do 
you  think  you  can  dine  with  me  on  Thursday  ? ' 

'  Yes,  if  the  general  continues  improving  ;  if  not,  I  will 
send  you  word.' 

The  next  day  I  complained  of  a  headache,  and  said,  that 
I  would  walk  out  until  dinner-time.  I  hastened  to  the  address 
given  me  by  Mr.  Masterton,  and  found  that  Mr.  Cophagus 
and  his  wife  were  out,  but  Susannah  remained  at  home. 
After  our  first  questions,  I  inquired  of  her  how  she  liked  London. 

'  I  am  almost  afraid  to  say,  Japhet,  at  least  to  you ;  you 
would  only  laugh  at  me.' 

'  Not  so,  Susannah  ;  I  never  laugh  when  I  know  people 
are  sincere.' 

'  It  appears  to  me  then  to  be  a  Vanity  Fair.' 

'That  there  is  more  vanity  in  London  than  in  any  other 
city,  I  grant,'  replied  I  ;  *  but  recollect,  that  there  are  more 
people  and  more  wealth.  I  do  not  think  that  there  is  more 
in  proportion  than  in  other  towns  in  England,  and  if  there  is 
more  vanity,  Susannah,  recollect  also  that  there  is  more 
industry,  more  talent,  and  I  should  hope  a  greater  proportion 
of  good  and  honest  people  among  its  multitudes ;  there  is 
also,  unfortunately,  more  misery  and  more  crime.' 

'  I  believe  you  are  right,  Japhet.  Are  you  aware  that  Mr. 
Cophagus  has  put  off  his  plain  attire  ? ' 

*  If  it  grieves  you,   Susannah,  it  grieves  me  also ;   but    I 
presume  he  finds  it  necessary  not  to  be  so  remarkable.' 

*  For  him,   I  could  find  some  excuse ;  but  what  will  you 
say,  Japhet,  when  I  tell  you  that  my  own  sister,  born   and 
bred  up  to  our  tenets,  hath  also  much  deviated  from  the  dress 
of  the  females  of  our  sect  ? ' 

'  In  what  hath  she  made  an  alteration  ?  ' 

'  She  has  a  bonnet  of  plaited  straw  with  ribands.' 

*  Of  what  colour  are  the  ribands  ? ' 

'  Nay,  of  the  same  as  her  dress — of  grey.' 

*  Your  bonnet,  Susannah,  is  of  grey  silk  ;  I  do  not  see  that 
there   is   vanity  in    descending    to    straw,   which    is    a    more 
homely  commodity.      But  what  reason  has  she  given  ? ' 

374 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  That  her  husband  wills  it,  as  he  does  not  like  to  walk  out 
with  her  in  her  Quaker's  dress.' 

1  Is  it  not  her  duty  to  obey  her  husband,  even  as  I  obey 
my  father,  Susannah  ? — but  I  am  not  ashamed  to  walk  out 
with  you  in  your  dress  ;  so  if  you  have  no  objection,  let  me 
show  you  a  part  of  this  great  city.' 

Susannah  consented :  we  had  often  walked  together  in  the 
town  of  Reading  :  she  was  evidently  pleased  at  what  I  said. 
I  soon  escorted  her  to  Oxford  Street,  from  thence  down  Bond 
Street  and  through  all  the  most  frequented  parts  of  the 
metropolis.  The  dress  naturally  drew  upon  her  the  casual 
glance  of  the  passengers,  but  her  extreme  beauty  turned  the 
glance  to  an  ardent  gaze,  and  long  before  we  had  finished  our 
intended  walk,  Susannah  requested  that  I  would  go  home. 
She  was  not  only  annoyed  but  almost  alarmed  at  the  constant 
and  reiterated  scrutiny  which  she  underwent,  ascribing  it  to 
her  dress,  and  not  to  her  lovely  person.  As  soon  as  we 
returned  I  sat  down  with  her. 

'  So  I  understand  that  Mr.  Cophagus  intends  to  reside 
altogether  in  London.' 

*  I  have  not  heard  so  ;  I  understood  that  it  was  business 
which  called  him  hither  for  a  few  weeks.      I  trust  not,  for  I 
shall  be  unhappy  here.' 

*  May  I  ask  why  ?  ' 

'The  people  are  rude  —  it  is  not  agreeable  to  walk 
out.' 

'  Recollect,  my  dear  Susannah,  that  those  of  your  sect  are 
not  so  plentiful  in  London  as  elsewhere,  and  if  you  wear  a 
dress  so  different  from  other  people,  you  must  expect  that 
curiosity  will  be  excited.  You  cannot  blame  them — it  is  you 
who  make  yourself  conspicuous,  almost  saying  to  the  people 
by  your  garment,  "  Come,  and  look  at  me."  I  have  been 
reflecting  upon  what  Mr.  Masterton  said  to  you  at  Reading, 
and  I  do  not  know  whether  he  was  not  right  in  calling  it  a 
garb  of  pride  instead  of  a  garb  of  humility.' 

*  If  I  thought  so,  Japhet,  even  I  would  throw  it  off,'  replied 
Susannah. 

'  It  certainly  is  not  pleasant  that  every  one  should  think 
that  you  walk  out  on  purpose  to  be  stared  at,  yet  such  is  the 
ill-natured  construction  of  the  world,  and  they  will  never 
believe  otherwise.  It  is  possible,  I  should  think,  to  dress 

375 


'  TJte  dress  naturally  drew  upon,  her  the  casual  glance  of  the  passengers. 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

with  equal  simplicity  and  neatness,  to  avoid  gay  colours,  and 
yet  to  dress  so  as  not  to  excite  observation.' 

'  I  hardly  know  what  to  say,  but  that  you  all  appear  against 
me,  and  that  sometimes  I  feel  that  I  am  too  presumptuous  in 
thus  judging  for  myself.' 

'  I  am  not  against  you,  Susannah  ;  I  know  you  will  do 
what  you  think  is  right,  and  I  shall  respect  you  for  that,  even 
if  I  disagree  with  you  ;  but  I  must  say,  that  if  my  wife  were 
to  dress  in  such  a  way  as  to  attract  the  public  gaze,  I  should 
feel  too  jealous  to  approve  of  it.  I  do  not,  therefore,  blame 
Mr.  Cophagus  for  inducing  his  pretty  wife  to  make  some 
alteration  in  her  attire,  neither  do  I  blame,  but  I  commend 
her  for  obeying  the  wishes  of  her  husband.  Her  beauty  is 
his,  and  not  common  property.' 

Susannah  did  not  reply  :  she  appeared  very  thoughtful. 

*  You  disagree  with  me,  Susannah,'  said  I,  after  a  pause  ; 
'  I  am  sorry  for  it.' 

'  I  cannot  say  that  I  do,  Japhet :  I  have  learnt  a  lesson 
this  day,  and,  in  future,  I  must  think  more  humbly  of  myself, 
and  be  more  ruled  by  the  opinions  and  judgment  of  others.' 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Cophagus  then  came  in.  Cophagus  had 
resumed  his  medical  coat  and  waistcoat,  but  not  his  pantaloons 
or  Hessians  :  his  wife,  who  had  a  very  good  taste  in  dress, 
would  not  allow  him.  She  was  in  her  grey  silk  gown,  but 
wore  a  large  handsome  shawl,  which  covered  all  but  the 
skirts  :  on  her  head  she  had  a  Leghorn  bonnet,  and  certainly 
looked  very  pretty.  As  usual,  she  was  all  good-humour  and 
smiles.  I  told  them  that  we  had  been  walking  out,  and  that 
Susannah  had  been  much  annoyed  by  the  staring  of  the 
people. 

'Always  so,'  said  Cophagus,  'never  mind — girls  like  it — 
feel  pleased — and  so  on.' 

'  You  wrong  me  much,  brother  Cophagus,'  replied  Susannah, 
'  it  pained  me  exceedingly.' 

'  All  very  well  to  say  so — know  better — sly  puss — will  wear 
dress — people  say,  pretty  Quaker — and  so  on.' 

Susannah  hastily  left  the  room  after  this  attack,  and  I  told 
them  what  had  passed. 

'  Mrs.  Cophagus,'  said  I,  '  order  a  bonnet  and  shawl  like 
yours  for  her,  without  telling  her,  and,  perhaps,  you  will  per- 
suade her  to  put  them  on.' 

377 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Mrs.  Cophagus  thought  the  idea  excellent  and  promised  to 
procure  them.  Susannah  not  making  her  reappearance,  I 
took  leave,  and  arrived  at  the  hotel  in  good  time  for  dinner. 

*  Japhet,'  said  the  general  to  me  as  we  were  at  table,  '  you 
have  mentioned  Lord  Windermear  very  often,  have  you  called 
upon  him  lately  ? ' 

1  No,  sir,  it  is  now  two  years  and  more  since  I  have  seen 
him.  When  I  was  summoned  to  town  to  meet  you,  I  was  too 
much  agitated  to  think  of  anything  else,  and  since  that  I  have 
had  too  much  pleasure  in  your  company.' 

'  Say  rather,  my  good  boy,  that  you  have  nursed  me  so 
carefully  that  you  have  neglected  your  friends  and  your  health. 
Take  my  carriage  to-morrow,  and  call  upon  him,  and  after 
that,  you  had  better  drive  about  a  little,  for  you  have  been 
looking  pale  these  last  few  days.  I  hope  to  get  out  myself  in 
a  short  time,  and  then  we  will  have  plenty  of  amusement 
together  in  setting  up  our  establishment.' 


CHAPTER    LXXVI 

I  renew  old  ties  of  friendship,  and  seek  new  ones  of  love — Obliged  to  take 
my  father  to  task  once  more  —  He  receives  his  lesson  with  proper 
obedience. 

I  TOOK  the  carriage  the  next  day,  and  drove  to  Lord  Winder- 
mear's.  He  was  at  home,  and  I  gave  my  name  to  the  servant 
as  Mr.  De  Benyon.  It  was  the  first  time  that  I  had  made  use 
of  my  own  name.  His  lordship  was  alone  when  I  entered. 
He  bowed,  as  if  not  recognising  me,  and  waved  his  hand  to  a 
chair. 

'  My  lord,  I  have  given  my  true  name,  and  you  treat  me 
as  a  perfect  stranger.  I  will  mention  my  former  name,  and  I 
trust  you  will  honour  me  with  a  recognition.  I  was  Japhet 
Newland.' 

*  My  dear  Mr.  Newland,  you  must  accept  my  apology  ;  but 
it  is  so  long  since  we  met,  and  I  did  not  expect  to  see  you 
again.' 

*  I  thought,  my  lord,  that  Mr.  Masterton  had  informed  you 
of  what  had  taken  place.' 

378 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  No  ;  I  have  just  come  from  a  visit  to  my  sisters  in  West- 
moreland, and  have  received  no  letters  from  him.' 

'  I  have,  my  lord,  at  last  succeeded  in  finding  out  the  object 
of  my  mad  search,  as  you  were  truly  pleased  to  call  it,  in  the 
Honourable  General  De  Benyon,  lately  arrived  from  the  East 
Indies.3 

'Where  his  services  are  well  known,5  added  his  lordship. 
'  Mr.  De  Benyon,  I  congratulate  you  with  all  my  heart.  When 
you  refused  my  offers  of  assistance,  and  left  us  all  in  that  mad 
way,  I  certainly  despaired  of  ever  seeing  you  again.  I  am 
glad  that  you  reappear  under  such  fortunate  auspices.  Has 
your  father  any  family  ? ' 

'None,  my  lord,  but  myself;  and  my  mother  died  in  the 
East  Indies.3 

'  Then,  I  presume,  from  what  I  know  at  the  Board  of  Con- 
trol, that  you  may  now  safely  be  introduced  as  a  young 
gentleman  of  large  fortune ;  allow  me,  at  least,  to  assist  your 
father  in  placing  you  in  your  proper  sphere  in  society.  Where 
is  your  father  ? 3 

'  At  present,  my  lord,  he  is  staying  at  the  Adelphi  Hotel, 
confined  to  his  room  by  an  accident ;  but  I  trust  that  in  a  few 
days  he  will  be  able  to  come  out.3 

'  Will  you  offer  my  congratulations  to  him,  and  tell  him, 
that  if  he  will  allow  me,  I  will  have  the  honour  of  paying  my 
respects  to  him.  Will  you  dine  with  me  on  Monday  next  ? 3 

I  returned  my  thanks,  accepted  the  invitation,  and  took  my 
leave,  his  lordship  saying,  as  he  shook  hands  with  me,  '  You 
don't  know  how  happy  this  intelligence  has  made  me.  I  trust 
that  your  father  and  I  shall  be  good  friends.3 

When  I  returned  to  the  carriage,  as  my  father  had  desired 
me  to  take  an  airing,  I  thought  I  might  as  well  have  a  com- 
panion, so  I  directed  them  to  drive  to  Mr.  Cophagus's.  The 
servant  knocked,  and  I  went  in  as  soon  as  the  door  was 
opened.  Susannah  and  Mrs.  Cophagus  were  sitting  in  the 
room. 

'  Susannah,'  said  I,  '  I  know  you  do  not  like  to  walk  out, 
so  I  thought,  perhaps,  you  would  have  no  objection  to  take  an 
airing  in  the  carriage  :  my  father  has  lent  it  to  me.  Will  you 
come  ? — it  will  do  you  good.3 

'  It  is  very  kind  of  you,  Japhet,  to  think  of  me  ;  but ' 

'  But  what  ? '    replied  Mrs.   Cophagus.      '  Surely  thou  wilt 

379 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

not  refuse,  Susannah.  It  would  savour  much  of  ingratitude 
on  thy  part.' 

'  I  will  not  then  be  ungrateful,'  replied  Susannah,  leaving 
the  room ;  and  in  a  short  time  she  returned  in  a  Leghorn 
bonnet  and  shawl  like  her  sister's.  *  Do  not  I  prove  that  I 
am  not  ungrateful,  Japhet,  since  to  do  credit  to  thy  carriage, 
I  am  content  to  depart  from  the  rules  of  our  persuasion  ? '  said 
Susannah,  smiling. 

*  I  feel  the  kindness  and  the  sacrifice  you  are  making  to 
please  me,  Susannah,'  replied  I  ;  '  but  let  us  lose  no  time.' 

I  handed  her  down  to  the  carriage,  and  we  drove  to  the 
Park.  It  was  a  beautiful  day,  and  the  Park  was  filled  with 
pedestrians  as  well  as  carriages.  Susannah  was  much 
astonished,  as  well  as  pleased.  '  Now,  Susannah,'  said  I,  '  if 
you  were  to  call  this  Vanity  Fair,  you  would  not  be  far  wrong  ; 
but  still,  recollect  that  even  all  this  is  productive  of  much 
good.  Reflect  how  many  industrious  people  find  employment 
and  provision  for  their  families  by  the  building  of  these  gay 
vehicles,  their  painting  and  ornamenting.  How  many  are 
employed  at  the  loom,  and  at  the  needle,  in  making  these 
costly  dresses.  This  vanity  is  the  cause  of  wealth  not  being 
hoarded,  but  finding  its  way  through  various  channels,  so  as 
to  produce  comfort  and  happiness  to  thousands.' 

'  Your  observations  are  just,  Japhet,  but  you  have  lived  in 
the  world,  and  seen  much  of  it.  I  am  as  one  just  burst  from 
an  egg-shell,  all  amazement.  I  have  been  living  in  a  little 
world  of  my  own  thoughts,  surrounded  by  a  mist  of  ignorance, 
and  not  being  able  to  penetrate  farther,  have  considered 
myself  wise  when  I  was  not.' 

'  My  dear  Susannah,  this  is  a  checkered  world,  but  not  a 
very  bad  one — there  is  in  it  much  of  good  as  well  as  evil. 
The  sect  to  which  you  belong  avoid  it — they  know  it  not — and 
they  are  unjust  towards  it.  During  the  time  that  I  lived  at 
Reading,  I  will  candidly  state  to  you  that  I  met  with  many 
who  called  themselves  of  the  persuasion,  who  were  wholly 
unworthy  of  it,  but  they  made  up  in  outward  appearance  and 
hypocrisy  what  they  wanted  in  their  conduct  to  their  fellow- 
creatures.  Believe  me,  Susannah,  there  are  pious  and  good, 
charitable  and  humane,  conscientious  and  strictly  honourable 
people  among  those  who  now  pass  before  your  view  in  such 
gay  procession  ;  but  society  requires  that  the  rich  should  spend 

380 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

their  money  in  superfluities,  that  the  poor  may  be  supported. 
Be  not  deceived,  therefore,  in  future,  by  the  outward  garments, 
which  avail  nothing.' 

'  You  have  induced  me  much  to  alter  my  opinions  already, 
Japhet ;  so  has  that  pleasant  friend  of  thine,  Mr.  Masterton, 
who  has  twice  called  since  we  have  been  in  London  ;  but  is  it 
not  time  that  we  should  return  ? ' 

*  It  is  indeed  later  than  I  thought  it  was,  Susannah,'  replied 
I,  looking  at  my  watch,  '  and  I  am  afraid  that  my  father  will 
be  impatient  for  my  return.  I  will  order  them  to  drive  home.' 

As  we  drove  along,  leaning  against  the  back  of  the  carriage, 
my  hand  happened  to  touch  that  of  Susannah,  which  lay  beside 
her  on  the  cushion  ;  I  could  not  resist  taking  it  in  mine, 
and  it  was  not  withdrawn.  What  my  thoughts  were,  the 
reader  may  imagine :  Susannah's  I  cannot  acquaint  him 
with  ;  but  in  that  position  we  remained  in  silence  until  the 
carriage  stopped  at  Cophagus's  door.  I  handed  Susannah 
out  of  the  carriage,  and  went  upstairs  for  a  few  moments. 
Mrs.  Cophagus  and  her  husband  were  out. 

1  Susannah,  this  is  very  kind  of  you,  and  I  return  you  my 
thanks.  I  never  felt  more  happy  than  when  seated  with  you 
in  that  carriage.' 

'  I  have  received  both  amusement  and  instruction,  Japhet, 
and  ought  to  thank  you.  Do  you  know  what  passed  in  my 
mind  at  one  time  ? ' 

<  No — tell  me.' 

'When  I  first  knew  you,  and  you  came  among  us,  I 
was,  as  it  were,  the  guide,  a  presumptuous  one  perhaps  to 
you,  and  you  listened  to  me ;  now  it  is  reversed — now  that 
we  are  removed  and  in  the  world,  it  is  you  that  are  the  guide, 
and  it  is  I  who  listen  and  obey.' 

c  Because,  Susannah,  when  we  first  met  I  was  much  in 
error,  and  had  thought  too  little  of  serious  things,  and  you 
were  fit  to  be  my  guide  ;  now  we  are  mixing  in  the  world, 
with  which  I  am  better  acquainted  than  yourself.  You 
then  corrected  me,  when  I  was  wrong  :  I  now  point  out  to 
you  where  you  are  not  rightly  informed  :  but,  Susannah,  what 
you  have  learnt  of  me  is  as  nought  compared  with  the 
valuable  precepts  which  I  gained  from  your  lips — precepts 
which,  I  trust,  no  collision  with  the  world  will  ever  make 
me  forget.' 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

*  Oh  !  I  love  to  hear  you  say  that ;  I  was  fearful  that 
the  world  would  spoil  you,  Japhet  ;  but  it  will  not — will  it  ? ' 

'  Not  so  long  as  I  have  you  still  with  me,  Susannah : 
but  if  I  am  obliged  to  mix  again  with  the  world,  tell  me, 


We  -were  in  each  others  arms.' 


Susannah,  will  you  reject  me  ? — will  you  desert  me  ? — will 
you  return  to  your  own  people  and  leave  me  so  exposed  ? 
Susannah,  dearest,  you  must  know  how  long,  how  dearly  I 
have  loved  you  : — you  know  that,  if  I  had  not  been  sent 
for  and  obliged  to  obey  the  message,  I  would  have  lived  and 

382 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

died  content  with  you.  Will  you  not  listen  to  me  now,  or 
do  you  reject  me  ?  ' 

I  put  my  arm  round  her  waist,  her  head  fell  upon  my 
shoulder,  and  she  burst  into  tears.  *  Speak,  dearest,  this 
suspense  is  torture  to  me,'  continued  I. 

'  I  do  love  you,  Japhet,'  replied  she  at  last,  looking 
fondly  at  me  through  her  tears  ;  '  but  I  know  not  whether 
this  earthly  love  may  not  have  weakened  my  affection  to- 
wards Heaven.  If  so,  may  God  pardon  me,  for  I  cannot 
help  it.' 

After  this  avowal,  for  a  few  minutes,  which  appeared 
seconds,  we  were  in  each  other's  arms,  when  Susannah  dis- 
engaged herself. 

*  Dearest  Japhet,  thy  father  will  be  much  displeased.' 

'  I  cannot  help  it,'  replied  I  —  'I  shall  submit  to  his 
displeasure.' 

'  Nay,  but,  Japhet,  why  risk  thy  father's  wrath  ? ' 

'  Well,  then,'  replied  I,  attempting  to  reach  her  lips,  *  I 
will  go.' 

'Nay,  nay — indeed,  Japhet,  you  exact  too  much  —  it  is 
not  seemly.' 

'  Then  I  won't  go.' 

1  Recollect  about  thy  father.' 

'  It  is  you  who  detain  me,  Susannah.' 

'  I  must  not  injure  thee  with  thy  father,  Japhet,  it  were 
no  proof  of  my  affection — but,  indeed,  you  are  self- willed.' 

'  God  bless  you,  Susannah,'  said  I,  as  I  gained  the 
contested  point,  and  hastened  to  the  carriage. 

My  father  was  a  little  out  of  humour  when  I  returned, 
and  questioned  me  rather  sharply  as  to  where  I  had  been. 
I  half  pacified  him  by  delivering  Lord  Windermear's  polite 
message  ;  but  he  continued  his  interrogations  :  and  although 
I  had  pointed  out  to  him  that  a  De  Benyon  would  never 
be  guilty  of  an  untruth,  I  am  afraid  I  told  some  half-dozen 
on  this  occasion  ;  but  I  consoled  myself  with  the  reflection, 
that,  in  the  code  of  honour  of  a  fashionable  man,  he  is 
bound,  if  necessary,  to  tell  falsehoods  where  a  lady  is  con- 
cerned ;  so  I  said  I  had  driven  through  the  streets  looking 
at  the  houses,  and  had  twice  stopped  and  had  gone  in  to 
examine  them.  My  father  supposed  that  I  had  been  looking 
out  for  a  house  for  him,  and  was  satisfied.  Fortunately  they 

383 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

were  job  horses ;  had  they  been  his  own  I  should  have 
been  in  a  severe  scrape.  Horses  are  the  only  part  of  an 
establishment  for  which  the  gentlemen  have  any  considera- 
tion, and  on  which  ladies  have  no  mercy. 

I  had  promised  the  next  day  to  dine  with  Mr.  Masterton. 
My  father  had  taken  a  great  aversion  to  this  old  gentleman 
until  I  had  narrated  the  events  of  my  life,  in  which  he 
had  played  such  a  conspicuous  and  friendly  part.  Then,  to 
do  my  father  justice,  his  heart  warmed  towards  him. 

'  My  dear  sir,  I  have  promised  to  dine  out  to-day.3 

'  With  whom,  Japhet  ? ' 

'  Why,  sir,  to  tell  you  the  truth,  with  that  "  old  thief  of 
a  lawyer." ' 

'  I  am  very  much  shocked  at  your  using  such  an  expression 
towards  one  who  has  been  such  a  sincere  friend,  Japhet ; 
and  you  will  oblige  me,  sir,  by  not  doing  so  again  in  my 
presence.' 

'  I  really  beg  your  pardon,  general,'  replied  I,  *  but  I 
thought  to  please  you.' 

'  Please  me  !  what  do  you  think  of  me  ?  please  me,  sir, 
by  showing  yourself  ungrateful ! — I  am  ashamed  of  you,  sir.' 

'  My  dear  father,  I  borrowed  the  expression  from  you. 
You  called  Mr.  Masterton  "  an  old  thief  of  a  lawyer "  to  his 
face :  he  complained  to  me  of  the  language  before  I  had 
the  pleasure  of  meeting  you.  I  feel,  and  always  shall  feel, 
the  highest  respect,  love,  and  gratitude  towards  him.  Have 
I  your  permission  to  go  ? ' 

*  Yes,  Japhet,'  replied  my  father,  looking  very  grave,  '  and 
do  me  the  favour  to  apologise  for  me  to  Mr.  Masterton  for 
my  having  used  such  an  expression  in  my  unfortunate  warmth 
of  temper — I  am  ashamed  of  myself.' 

'  My  dearest  father,  no  man  need  be  ashamed  who  is  so 
ready  to  make  honourable  reparation: — we  are  all  a  little 
out  of  temper  at  times.' 

'You  have  been  a  kind  friend  to  me,  Japhet,  as  well  as 
a  good  son,'  replied  my  father,  with  some  emotion.  *  Don't 
forget  the  apology  at  all  events  :  I  shall  be  unhappy  until 
it  be  made.' 


384 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 


CHAPTER    LXXVII 

Treats  of  apologies,  and  love  coming  from  church — We  finesse  with 
the  nabob  to  win  me  a  wife — I  am  successful  in  my  suit,  yet  the 
lawyer  is  still  to  play  the  cards  to  enable  me  to  win  the  game. 

I  ARRIVED  at  Mr.  Masterton's  and  walked  into  his  room, 
when  whom  should  I  find  in  company  with  him  but  Harcourt. 

'  Japhet,  I'm  glad  to  see  you  ;  allow  me  to  introduce  you 
to  Mr.  Harcourt — Mr.  De  Benyon,'  and  the  old  gentleman 
grinned  maliciously,  but  I  was  not  to  be  taken  aback. 

'  Harcourt,'  said  I,  extending  my  hand,  '  I  have  to 
apologise  to  you  for  a  rude  reception  and  for  unjust  suspicions, 
but  I  was  vexed  at  the  time  —  if  you  will  admit  that  as 
an  excuse.' 

'  My  dear  Japhet,'  replied  Harcourt,  taking  my  hand  and 
shaking  it  warmly,  '  I  have  to  apologise  to  you  for  much 
more  unworthy  behaviour,  and  it  will  be  a  great  relief  to 
my  mind  if  you  will  once  more  enrol  me  in  the  list  of  your 
friends.' 

'And  now,  Mr.  Masterton,'  said  I,  'as  apologies  appear 
to  be  the  order  of  the  day,  I  bring  you  one  from  the 
general,  who  has  requested  me  to  make  one  to  you  for  having 
called  you  "  an  old  thief  of  a  lawyer,"  of  which  he  was  totally 
ignorant  until  I  reminded  him  of  it  to-day.' 

Harcourt  burst  into  a  laugh. 

'  Well,  Japhet,  you  may  tell  your  old  tiger,  that  I  did  not 
feel  particularly  affronted,  as  I  took  his  expression  profession- 
ally and  not  personally,  and  if  he  meant  it  in  that  sense,  he 
was  not  far  wrong.  Japhet,  to-morrow  is  Sunday ;  do  you  go 
to  meeting  or  to  church  ?  ' 

'  I  believe,  sir,  that  I  shall  go  to  church.' 

'  Well,  then,  come  with  me  : — be  here  at  half-past  two — we 
will  go  to  evening  service  at  St.  James's.' 

'  I  have  received  many  invitations,  but  I  never  yet  received 
an  invitation  to  go  to  church,'  replied  I. 

'  You  will  hear  an  extra  lesson  of  the  day — a  portion  of 
Susannah  and  the  Elders.' 

I  took  the  equivoque,  which  was  incomprehensible  to  Har- 
2  c  385 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

court :  I  hardly  need  say,  that  the  latter  and  I  were  on  the 
best  terms.  When  we  separated,  Harcourt  requested  leave  to 
call  upon  me  the  next  morning,  and  Mr.  Masterton  said  that 
he  should  also  pay  his  respects  to  the  tiger,  as  he  invariably 
called  my  most  honoured  parent. 

Harcourt  was  with  me  very  soon  after  breakfast ;  and  after 
I  had  introduced  him  to  my  *  Governor,'  we  retired  to  talk 
without  interruption. 

'  I  have  much  to  say  to  you,  De  Benyon,'  commenced 
Harcourt :  '  first  let  me  tell  you,  that  after  I  rose  from  my 
bed,  and  discovered  that  you  had  disappeared,  I  resolved,  if 
possible,  to  find  you  out  and  induce  you  to  come  back. 
Timothy,  who  looked  very  sly  at  me,  would  tell  me  nothing, 
but  that  the  last  that  was  heard  of  you  was  at  Lady  de  Clare's 
at  Richmond.  Having  no  other  clue,  I  went  down  there,  in- 
troduced myself,  and,  as  they  will  tell  you,  candidly  acknow- 
ledged that  I  had  treated  you  ill.  I  then  requested  that  they 
would  give  me  any  clue  by  which  you  might  be  found,  for  I 
had  an  opportunity  of  offering  to  you  a  situation  which  was  at 
my  father's  disposal,  and  which  any  gentleman  might  have 
accepted,  although  it  was  not  very  lucrative.' 

'  It  was  very  kind  of  you,  Harcourt.' 

'  Do  not  say  that,  I  beg.  It  was  thus  that  I  formed  an 
acquaintance  with  Lady  de  Clare  and  her  daughter,  whose 
early  history,  as  Fleta,  I  had  obtained  from  you,  but  who  I 
little  imagined  to  be  the  little  girl  that  you  had  so  generously 
protected  ;  for  it  was  not  until  after  I  had  deserted  you,  that 
you  had  discovered  her  parentage.  The  extreme  interest 
relative  to  you  evinced  by  both  the  mother  and  the  daughter 
surprised  me.  They  had  heard  of  my  name  from  you,  but  not 
of  our  quarrel.  They  urged  me,  and  thanked  me  for  propos- 
ing to  follow  you  and  find  you  out :  I  did  make  every  attempt. 
I  went  to  Brentford,  inquired  at  all  the  public-houses,  and  of 
all  the  coachmen  who  went  down  the  road,  but  could  obtain 
no  information,  except  that  at  one  public-house  a  gentleman 
stopped  with  a  portmanteau,  and  soon  afterwards  went  away 
with  it  on  his  shoulders.  I  returned  to  Richmond  with  the 
tidings  of  my  ill-success  about  a  week  after  I  had  first  called 
there.  Cecilia  was  much  affected,  and  cried  very  bitterly.  I 
could  not  help  asking  Lady  de  Clare  why  she  took  such  a 
strong  interest  in  your  fortunes.  "  Who  ought,"  replied  Cecilia, 

386 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

"  if  his  poor  Fleta  does  not  ?"  "  Good  heavens  !  Miss  de  Clare, 
are  you  the  little  Fleta  whom  he  found  with  the  gipsies,  and 
talked  to  me  so  much  about  ?"  "  Did  you  not  know  it  ?"  said 
Lady  de  Clare.  I  then  explained  to  her  all  that  had  latterly 
passed  between  us,  and  they  in  return  communicated  your 
events  and  dangers  in  Ireland.  Thus  was  an  intimacy  formed, 
and  ever  since  I  have  been  constantly  welcome  at  their  house. 
I  did  not,  however,  abandon  my  inquiries  for  many  months, 
when  I  thought  it  was  useless,  and  I  had  to  console  poor 
Cecilia,  who  constantly  mourned  for  you.  And  now,  Japhet, 
I  must  make  my  story  short :  I  could  not  help  admiring  a 
young  person  who  showed  so  much  attachment  and  gratitude 
joined  to  such  personal  attractions  ;  but  she  was  an  heiress, 
and  I  was  a  younger  brother.  Still  Lady  de  Clare  insisted 
upon  my  coming  to  the  house  ;  and  I  was  undecided  how  to 
act,  when  the  unfortunate  death  of  my  elder  brother  put  me  in 
a  situation  to  aspire  to  her  hand.  After  that  my  visits  were 
more  frequent  ;  and  I  was  tacitly  received  as  a  suitor  by  Lady 
de  Clare,  and  had  no  reason  to  complain  of  the  treatment  I 
received  from  Cecilia.  Such  was  the  position  of  affairs  until 
the  day  on  which  you  broke  in  upon  us  so  unexpectedly  ;  and 
at  the  very  moment  that  you  came  in,  I  had,  with  the  sanction 
of  her  mother,  made  an  offer  to  Cecilia,  and  was  anxiously 
awaiting  an  answer  from  her  own  dear  lips.  Can  you,  there- 
fore, be  surprised,  Japhet,  at  there  being  a  degree  of  constraint 
on  all  sides  at  the  interruption  occasioned  by  the  presence  of 
one  who  had  long  been  considered  lost  to  us  ?  Or  that  a 
young  person  just  deciding  upon  the  most  important  step  of 
her  life  should  feel  confused  and  agitated  at  the  entrance  of  a 
third  party,  however  dear  he  might  be  to  her  as  a  brother  and 
benefactor  ?J 

*  I  am  perfectly  satisfied,  Harcourt,'  replied  I  ;  '  and  I  will 
go  there,  and  make  my  peace  as  soon  as  I  can.' 

'  Indeed,  Japhet,  if  you  knew  the  distress  of  Cecilia,  you 
would  pity  and  love  her  more  than  ever.  Her  mother  is  also 
much  annoyed.  As  soon  as  you  were  gone,  they  desired  me 
to  hasten  after  you  and  bring  you  back.  Cecilia  had  not  yet 
given  her  answer  :  I  requested  it  before  my  departure  ;  but,  I 
presume  to  stimulate  me,  she  declared  that  she  would  give  me 
no  answer  until  I  reappeared  with  you.  This  is  now  three 
weeks  ago,  and  I  have  not  dared  to  go  there.  I  have  been 

387 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

trying  all  I  can  to  see  you  again  since  you  repulsed  me  at  the 
Piazza,  but  without  success,  until  I  went  to  Mr.  Masterton, 
and  begged  him  to  procure  me  an  interview.  I  thank  God  it 
has  succeeded.' 

'  Well,  Harcourt,  you  shall  see  Cecilia  to-morrow  morning, 
if  you  please.' 

'  Japhet,  what  obligations  I  am  under  to  you  !  Had  it  not 
been  for  you  I  never  should  have  known  Cecilia  ;  and  more, 
were  it  not  for  your  kindness,  I  might  perhaps  lose  her  for  ever.' 

'  Not  so,  Harcourt  ;  it  was  your  own  good  feeling  prompt- 
ing you  to  find  me  out,  which  introduced  you  to  Cecilia,  and 
I  wish  you  joy  with  all  my  heart.  This  is  a  strange  world — 
who  would  have  imagined  that,  in  little  Fleta,  I  was  picking 
up  a  wife  for  a  man  whose  life  I  nearly  took  away  ?  I  will 
ask  my  "  Governor "  for  his  carriage  to-morrow,  and  will  call 
and  take  you  up  at  your  lodgings  at  two  o'clock,  if  that  hour 
will  suit  you.  I  will  tell  you  all  that  has  passed  since  I 
absconded,  when  we  are  at  Lady  de  Clare's  :  one  story  will  do 
for  all.' 

Harcourt  then  took  his  leave,  and  I  returned  to  my  father, 
with  whom  I  found  Lord  Windermear. 

'  De  Benyon,  I  am  happy  to  see  you  again,'  said  his  lord- 
ship. '  I  have  just  been  giving  a  very  good  character  of  you 
to  the  general  ;  I  hope  you  will  continue  to  deserve  it.' 

'  I  hope  so  too,  my  lord  ;  I  should  be  ungrateful,  indeed,  if 
I  did  not,  after  my  father's  kindness  to  me.' 

Mr.  Masterton  was  then  introduced :  Lord  Windermear 
shook  hands  with  him,  and  after  a  short  conversation  took  his 
leave. 

'  Japhet,'  said  Mr.  Masterton  aside,  '  I  have  a  little  busi- 
ness with  your  father  ;  get  out  of  the  room  any  way  you  think 
best.' 

'  There  are  but  two  ways,  my  dear  sir,'  replied  I,  '  the  door 
or  the  windows  :  with  your  permission,  I  will  select  the  former, 
as  most  agreeable' ;  so  saying,  I  went  to  my  own  room. 
What  passed  between  the  general  and  Mr.  Masterton  I  did 
not  know  until  afterwards,  but  they  were  closeted  upwards  of 
an  hour,  when  I  was  sent  for  by  Mr.  Masterton. 

'  Japhet,  you  said  you  would  go  with  me  to  hear  the  new 
preacher  ;  we  have  no  time  to  lose  :  so,  general,  I  shall  take 
my  leave  and  run  away  with  your  son.' 

388 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

I  followed  Mr.  Masterton  into  his  carriage,  and  we  drove 
to  the  lodging  of  Mr.  Cophagus.  Susannah  was  all  ready, 
and  Mr.  Masterton  went  upstairs  and  brought  her  down.  A 
blush  and  a  sweet  smile  illumined  her  features  when  she 
perceived  me  stowed  away  in  the  corner  of  the  chariot.  We 
drove  off,  and  somehow  or  another  our  hands  again  met,  and 
did  not  separate  until  we  arrived  at  the  church  door. 
Susannah  had  the  same  dress  on  as  when  she  had  accom- 
panied me  in  my  father's  carriage.  I  went  through  the 
responses  with  her,  reading  out  of  the  same  book,  and  I  never 
felt  more  inclined  to  be  devout,  for  I  was  happy,  and  grateful 
to  Heaven  for  my  happiness.  When  the  service  was  over,  we 
were  about  to  enter  the  carriage,  when  who  should  accost  us 
but  Harcourt. 

'  You  are  surprised  to  see  me  here,'  said  he  to  Mr. 
Masterton  ;  '  but  I  thought  there  must  be  something  very 
attractive,  that  you  should  make  an  appointment  with  Japhet 
to  go  to  this  church,  and  as  I  am  very  fond  of  a  good  sermon, 
I  determined  to  come  and  hear  it.' 

Harcourt's  ironical  look  told  me  all  he  would  say. 

'  Well,'  replied  Mr.  Masterton,  c  I  hope  you  have  been 
edified — now  get  out  of  the  way,  and  let  us  go  into  the 
carriage.' 

'To-morrow  at  two,  De  Benyon,'  said  Harcourt,  taking 
another  peep  at  Susannah. 

'Yes,  punctually,'  replied  I,  as  the  carriage  drove  off. 

'  And  now,  my  dear  child,'  said  Mr.  Masterton  to  Susannah, 
as  the  carriage  rolled  along,  '  tell  me,  have  you  been  dis- 
appointed, or  do  you  agree  with  me  ?  You  have  attended  a 
meeting  of  your  own  persuasion  this  morning — you  have  now, 
for  the  first  time,  listened  to  the  ritual  of  the  Established 
Church.  To  which  do  you  give  the  preference  ? ' 

'  I  will  not  deny,  sir,  that  I  think,  in  departing  from  the 
forms  of  worship,  those  of  my  persuasion  did  not  do  wisely. 
I  would  not  venture  thus  much  to  say,  but  you  support  me  in 
my  judgment.' 

'  You  have  answered  like  a  good,  sensible  girl,  and  have 
proved  that  you  can  think  for  yourself;  but  observe,  my  child, 
I  have  persuaded  you  for  once,  and  once  only,  to  enter  our 
place  of  worship,  that  you  might  compare  and  judge  for  your- 
self ;  it  now  remains  for  you  to  decide  as  you  please.' 

389 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  I  would  that  some  better  qualified  would  decide  for  me,5 
replied  Susannah,  gravely. 

'Your  husband,  Susannah,' whispered  I,  'must  take  that 
responsibility  upon  himself.  Is  he  not  the  proper  person  ?' 

Susannah  slightly  pressed  my  hand,  which  held  hers,  and 
said  nothing.  As  soon  as  we  had  conveyed  her  home,  Mr. 
Masterton  offered  to  do  me  the  same  kindness,  which  I 
accepted. 

'Now,  Japhet,  I  daresay  that  you  would  like  to  know 
what  it  was  I  had  so  particular  to  say  to  the  old  general  this 
morning.' 

'  Of  course  I  would,  sir,  if  it  concerned  me.' 

'  It  did  concern  you,  for  we  had  not  been  two  minutes  in 
conversation  before  you  were  brought  on  the  tapis  :  he  spoke 
of  you  with  tears  in  his  eyes — of  what  a  comfort  you  had  been 
to  him,  and  how  happy  you  had  made  him  ;  and  that  he  could 
not  bear  you  to  be  away  from  him  for  half  an  hour.  On  that 
hint  I  spake,  and  observed,  that  he  must  not  expect  you  to 
continue  in  retirement  long,  neither  must  he  blame  you,  that 
when  he  had  set  up  his  establishment,  you  would  be  as  great 
a  favourite  as  you  were  before,  and  be  unable,  without  giving 
offence,  to  refuse  the  numerous  invitations  which  you  would 
receive.  In  short,  that  it  was  nothing  but  right  you  should 
resume  your  position  in  society,  and  it  was  his  duty  to  submit 
to  it.  The  old  "  Governor "  did  not  appear  to  like  my 
observations,  and  said  he  expected  otherwise  from  you.  I 
replied,  "  that  it  was  impossible  to  change  our  natures  ;  and 
the  other  sex  would  naturally  have  attractions  which  you 
would  not  be  able  to  resist,  and  that  they  would  occupy  a 
large  portion  of  your  time.  The  only  way  to  insure  his 
company,  my  dear  sir,  is  marry  him  to  a  steady,  amiable 
young  woman,  who,  not  having  been  thrown  into  the  vortex  of 
fashion,  will  find  pleasure  in  domestic  life.  Then  her  husband 
will  become  equally  domestic,  and  you  will  be  all  very  happy 
together."  Your  father  agreed  with  me,  and  appeared  very 
anxious  that  it  should  take  place.  I  then  very  carefully  intro- 
duced Miss  Temple,  saying  that  I  knew  you  had  a  slight 
partiality  in  that  quarter,  highly  commending  her  beauty, 
prudence,  etc.  I  stated,  that  feeling  an  interest  about  you, 
I  had  gone  down  into  the  country  where  she  resided,  and  had 
made  her  acquaintance,  and  had  been  much  pleased  with  her ; 

390 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

that  since  she  had  come  up  to  town  with  her  relations,  I  had 
seen  a  great  deal,  and  had  formed  so  high  an  opinion  of,  and 
so  strong  an  attachment  to  her,  and  had  felt  so  convinced 
that  she  was  the  very  person  who  would  make  you  happy  and 
domestic,  that  having  no  family  myself,  I  had  some  idea  of 
adopting  her.  At  all  events,  that  if  she  married  you  I  was 
determined  to  give  her  'something  very  handsome  on  the  day 
of  the  wedding.' 

*  But,  my  dear    sir,    why  should   you  not  have  said    that 
Susannah  Temple  was  left  an  orphan  at  seven  years  old,  and 
her  fortune  has  accumulated  ever  since  ?      It  is  by  no  means 
despicable,  I  understand,  from  Mr.  Cophagus  ;  and,  moreover, 
Mr.  Cophagus  intends  to  leave  her  all  his  property.' 

'  I  am  very  glad  to  hear  it,  Japhet,  and  will  not  fail  to 
communicate  all  this  to  your  father ;  but  there  is  no  reason 
why  I  may  not  do  as  I  please  with  my  own  money — and  I 
love  that  girl  dearly.  By  the  bye,  have  you  ever  said  anything 
to  her  ? ' 

*  Oh  yes,  sir,  we  are  pledged  to  each  other.' 

'  That's  all  right :  I  thought  so,  when  I  saw  your  fingers 
tooked  together  in  the  carriage.  But  now,  Japhet,  I  should 
recommend  a  little  indifference — not  exactly  opposition,  when 
your  father  proposes  the  subject  to  you.  It  will  make  him 
more  anxious,  and  when  you  consent,  more  obliged  to  you.  I 
have  promised  to  call  upon  him  to-morrow,  on  that  and  other 
business,  and  you  had  better  be  out  of  the  way.' 

'  I  shall  be  out  of  the  way,  sir  :  I  mean  to  go  with  Harcourt 
to  Lady  de  Clare's.  I  shall  ask  for  the  carriage.' 

'  He  will  certainly  lend  it  to  you,  as  he  wishes  to  get  rid  of 
you  ;  but  here  we  are.  God  bless  you,  my  boy.' 


CHAPTER    LXXVIII 

The  Bengal  tiger  taken  in  the  toils,  which  promises  a  speedy  end  to  mine 
— I  kindly  permit  my  father  to  insist  upon  the  marriage  that  I  have 
set  my  heart  upon. 

I  FOUND  my  father,  who  had  now  completely  recovered  from 
his  accident,  walking  up  and  down  the  room  in  a  brown  study. 

391 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

He  did  not  speak  to  me  until  after  dinner,  when  he  commenced 
with  asking  some  question  relative  to  Cecilia  de  Clare.  I 
replied,  '  that  I  intended,  if  he  did  not  want  the  carriage,  to 
call  there  to-morrow  with  Mr.  Harcourt.3 

1  Is  she  very  handsome  ? '  inquired  he. 

'  Very  much  so,  sir.  I  do  not  think  I  ever  saw  a  handsomer 
young  person.  Yes,  I  do  recollect  one.' 

*  Who  was  that  ? ' 

'A  young  lady  with  whom  I  was  slightly  acquainted,  when 
living  in  the  country.3 

*  I  have  been  thinking,  my  dear  boy,  that  with  the  compe- 
tence which  you  will  have,  it  is  right  that  you  should  marry 
early  :  in  so  doing  you  will  oblige  your  father,  who  is  anxious 
to  see  his  grandchildren  before  he  dies.      My  health    is  not 
very  good.3 

I  could  not  help  smiling  at  this  pathetic  touch  of  the  old 
'  Governors,3  who,  if  one  could  judge  from  appearances,  was 
as  strong  as  a  lion,  and  likely  to  last  almost  as  long  as  his 
dutiful  son.  Moreover,  his  appetite  was  enormous,  and  h* 
invariably  finished  his  bottle  every  day.  I  did  not,  therefore, 
feel  any  serious  alarm  as  to  his  health  ;  but  I  nevertheless 
replied,  '  Matrimony  is  a  subject  upon  which  I  have  never 
thought 3 — (a  hem  !  a  De  Benyon  never  tells  an  untruth  !» 
4 1  am  very  young  yet,  and  am  too  happy  to  remain  with  you.' 

'  But,  my  dear  boy,  I  propose  that  you  shall  remain  with 
me — we  will  all  live  together.  I  do  not  intend  that  we  shall 
part.  I  really  wish,  Japhet,  you  would  think  seriously  of  it.' 

'  My  dear  father,  allow  me  to  observe,  that  at  present  I 
am  not  in  a  situation  to  support  a  wife,  and  I  should  be  sorry 
to  be  a  tax  upon  you,  at  your  age :  you  require  many 
comforts  and  luxuries,  and  I  presume  that  you  live  up  to  your 
income.3 

'  Then,  my  dear  fellow,  you  are  under  a  great  mistake.  I 
can  lay  down  one  hundred  thousand  pounds  on  the  day  of 
your  marriage,  with  any  lady  whom  I  approve  of,  and  still  not 
spend  half  my  remaining  income.' 

'  That,  sir,3  replied  I,  '  certainly  removes  one  difficulty,  at 
the  same  time  that  it  proves  what  a  generous  and  indulgent 
father  I  am  blessed  with  ;  but,  sir,  with  such  a  fortune,  I  have 
a  right  to  expect  that  the  lady  will  also  bring  a  handsome 
addition.  Miss  De  Clare  is  engaged,  I  believe,  to  Mr. 

392 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Harcourt,  or  I  might  have  made  strong  interest  in  that 
quarter.' 

'  Something,  my  dear  boy ;  but  a  moderate  fortune  now-a- 
days  is  all  that  we  expect  with  wives,  and  the  best  wives  are 
those  who  are  not  born  to  too  much  wealth  ;  still  she  should 
bring  something ;  but  tell  me,  Japhet,  who  is  that  young  lady 
whom  you  thought  handsomer  than  Miss  De  Clare  ?' 

'  A  Miss  Temple,  sir.' 

'  Temple — it  is  a  very  good  name.  I  think  girls  brought 
up  in  the  country  make  the  best  wives.' 

'  They  do,  sir,  most  certainly :  they  are  more  domestic, 
and  make  their  husbands  more  content  and  happy  at  home.' 

'Well,  my  dear  boy,  I  have  mentioned  the  subject,  and 
wish  you  would  think  of  it.  You  will  please  me  much.' 

'  My  dear  father,  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  obey  in  every- 
thing else,  but  in  so  serious  a  point  as  uniting  myself  for  life, 
I  think  you  must  allow  that  a  little  discretionary  power  should 
be  given  to  a  son.  All  I  can  say  is  this,  show  me  a  young 
person  who  is  eligible,  and  if  I  find  that  I  can  love  her,  I  will 
not  refuse  to  obey  your  wishes.' 

'Well,  sir,  do  as  you  please,'  replied  my  father,  very 
angrily  ;  '  but  I  think,  sir,  when  I  desire  you  to  fall  in  love  it 
is  your  duty  to  obey.' 

'  Suppose  I  was  to  fall  in  love  with  a  person  you  did  not 
like,  would  you  allow  me  to  marry  her  ? ' 

'  Most  certainly  not,  sir.' 

'  Then,  sir,  is  it  reasonable  to  expect  me  to  marry  without 
being  in  love  ? ' 

'  I  did  not  marry  for  love,  sir.' 

'  No,'  replied  I,  forgetting  myself  a  little  ;  '  and  a  pretty 
mess  you  made  of  it.' 

'  I  did,'  rejoined  my  father  in  a  rage,  '  by  begetting  an 
undutiful,  good-for-nothing,  graceless,  insolent,  ungrateful  son.' 

'  My  dear  father,  I  was  not  aware  that  I  had  a  brother.' 

'  I  mean  you,  sir.' 

'  To  prove  to  you  how  unjust  you  are,  sir,  and  how  little  I 
deserve  what  you  have  called  me,  I  now  promise  you  to  marry 
as  soon  as  you  wish.' 

'  Thank  you,  my  boy,  that's  kind  of  you  ;  but  I  will  say 
that  you  are  a  comfort  and  a  treasure  to  me,  and  I  bless  the 
day  that  brought  you  to  my  arms.  Well,  then,  look  about  you,' 

393 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

'  No,  sir,  I  leave  it  all  to  you ;  select  the  party,  and  I  am 
willing  to  obey  you.' 

'  My  dear  boy  !  Well,  then,  I'll  talk  the  matter  over  with 
Mr.  Masterton  to-morrow,'  and  the  general  shook  me  warmly 
by  the  hand. 

The  next  day  I  picked  up  Harcourt,  and  proceeded  to 
Park  Street.  A  note  from  him  had  informed  them  of  our 
intended  visit,  and  other  visitors  had  been  denied.  *  All  has 
been  explained,  Cecilia,'  said  I,  after  the  first  greeting  :  *  I 
was  very  wrong,  and  very  foolish.' 

'  And  made  me  very  miserable.  I  little  thought  that  you, 
Japhet,  would  have  made  me  cry  so  much  ;  but  I  forgive  you 
for  it,  as  I  would  a  thousand  times  as  much  more.  Now  sit 
down  and  tell  us  all  that  has  happened  since  you  left  us.' 

'  Not  yet,  my  dear  Cecilia.  You,  as  well  as  I,  owe  a 
reparation  to  poor  Harcourt,  whom,  I  think,  you  have  treated 
cruelly.  You  were  about  to  answer  a  question  of  vital  moment 
when  I  broke  in  upon  you,  and  you  have  since  kept  him  in  a 
state  of  cruel  suspense  for  more  than  three  weeks,  refusing 
him  an  answer  until  he  brought  me  into  your  presence.  An 
hour  of  such  suspense  must  be  dreadful,  and  before  we  sit 
down,  I  wish  every  one  should  feel  comfortable  and  happy.' 

'  It  was  not  altogether  to  stimulate  Mr.  Harcourt  to  bring 
you  back,  which  induced  me  to  refuse  to  answer  his  question, 
Japhet.  I  considered  that  your  return  had  rendered  it 
necessary  that  it  should  be  deferred  until  I  saw  you.  I  have 
not  forgotten,  Japhet,  and  never  forget,  what  I  was  when  you 
rescued  me ;  and  when  I  think  what  I  might  have  been  had 
you  not  saved  me,  I  shudder  at  the  bare  idea.  I  have  not 
forgotten  how  you  risked,  and  nearly  lost  your  life  in  Ireland 
for  my  sake — neither  has  my  mother.  We  are  beholden  to 
you  for  all  our  present  happiness,  and  I  am  eternally  indebted 
to  you  for  rescuing  me  from  ignorance,  poverty,  and  perhaps 
vice.  You  have  been  more,  much  more,  than  a  father  to  me — 
more,  much  more,  than  a  brother.  I  am,  as  it  were,  a  creature 
of  your  own  fashioning,  and  I  owe  to  you  that  which  I  never 
can  repay.  When,  then,  you  returned  so  unexpectedly, 
Japhet,  I  felt  that  you  had  a  paramount  right  in  my  disposal, 
and  I  was  glad  that  I  had  not  replied  to  Mr.  Harcourt,  as  I 
wished  first  for  your  sanction  and  approval.  I  know  all  that 
has  passed  between  you,  but  I  know  not  your  real  feelings 

394 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

towards  Mr.  Harcourt :  he  acknowledges  that  he  treated  you 
very  ill,  and  it  was  his  sincere  repentance  of  having  so  done, 
and  his  praise  of  you,  which  first  won  my  favour.  And  now, 
Japhet,  if  you  have  still  animosity  against  Mr.  Harcourt — if 
you ' 

'  Stop,  my  dear  Fleta,  I  will  answer  all  your  questions  at 
once.3  I  took  Harcourt's  hand,  and  placed  it  in  hers.  *  May 
God  bless  you  both,  and  may  you  be  happy  ! ' 

Cecilia  threw  her  arms  round  me  and  wept ;  so  did  every- 
body else,  I  believe.  It  was  lucky  for  Harcourt  that  I  was  in 
love  with  Susannah  Temple.  As  soon  as  Cecilia  had  recovered 
a  little,  I  kissed  her,  and  passed  her  over  to  her  right  owner, 
who  led  her  to  the  sofa.  Lady  de  Clare  and  I  went  out  of 
the  room  on  important  business,  and  did  not  return  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour.  When  we  returned,  Cecilia  went  to  her 
mother  and  embraced  her,  while  Harcourt  silently  squeezed 
my  hand.  We  then  all  sat  down,  and  I  gave  them  an  account 
of  all  that  had  passed  during  my  second  excursion — how  I  had 
nearly  been  hanged — how  I  had  gone  mad — how  I  had  turned 
Quaker  and  apothecary — which  they  all  agreed,  with  what 
had  happened  to  me  before,  made  up  a  very  eventful 
history. 

*  And,  Japhet,  if  it  be  a  fair  question  about  one  so  fair,  was 
that  Miss  Temple  who  was  at  church  with  you  yesterday  ? ' 

*  It  was.' 

'Then,  Cecilia,  if  ever  she  appears  in  the  same  circle, 
except  in  my  eyes,  your  beauty  will  stand  in  some  danger  of 
being  eclipsed.' 

*  How  can  you  say  except   in   your   eyes,   Mr.    Harcourt,' 
replied  Cecilia,  '  the  very  observation  proves  that  it  is  eclipsed 
in  your  eyes,  whatever  it  may  be  in  those  of  others.     Now,  as 
a  punishment,  I  have  a  great  mind  to  order  you  away  again, 
until  you  bring  her  face  to  face,  that  I  may  judge  myself.' 

*  If  I  am  again  banished,'  replied  Harcourt,  '  I  shall  have  a 
second  time  to  appeal  to  De  Benyon  to  be  able  to  come  back 
again.      He  can  produce  her,  I  have  no  doubt.' 

*  And  perhaps  may,  some  of  these  days,  Cecilia.' 
<Oh  !  do,  Japhet.      I  will  love  her  so.' 

*  You   must   wait  a    little    first.      I    am    not    quite    so    far 
advanced   as    you   and    Harcourt.      I    have   not   received   the 
consent  of  all  parties,  as  you  have  to-day.      But  I  must  now 

395 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

leave  you.  Harcourt,  I  presume  you  will  dine  here.  I  must 
dine  with  my  "  Governor."  ' 

On  my  return,  I  found  that  the  table  was  laid  for  three, 
and  that  the  general  had  asked  Mr.  Masterton,  from  which  I 
augured  well.  Masterton  could  not  speak  to  me  when  he 
arrived,  but  he  gave  me  a  wink  and  a  smile,  and  I  was 
satisfied.  '  Japhet,'  said  my  father,  «  you  have  no  engagement 
to-morrow,  I  hope,  because  I  shall  call  at  Mr.  Masterton's  on 
business,  and  wish  you  to  accompany  me.5 

I  replied,  that  '  I  should  be  most  happy,'  and  the  con- 
versation became  general. 

I  accompanied  my  father  the  next  day  to  Lincoln's  Inn  ; 
and  when  we  went  up,  we  found  Mr.  Masterton  at  the  table 
with  Mr.  Cophagus,  and  Susannah  sitting  apart  near  the 
window.  'The  plot  thickens,'  thought  I.  The  fact  was,  as  I 
was  afterwards  told  by  Mr.  Masterton,  he  had  prevailed  upon 
Cophagus  to  pretend  business,  and  to  bring  Susannah  with 
him,  and  appointed  them  a  quarter  of  an  hour  before  our  time. 
This  he  had  arranged,  that  the  general  might  see  Miss 
Temple,  as  if  by  accident ;  and  also  allow  me,  who,  my  father 
supposed,  was  not  aware  of  Miss  Temple  being  in  town,  to 
meet  with  her.  What  a  deal  of  humbug  there  is  in  this  world  ! 
Nothing  but  plot  and  counterplot !  I  shook  hands  with 
Cophagus,  who,  I  perceived,  had,  notwithstanding  his  wife's 
veto,  put  on  his  blue  cotton  net  pantaloons  and  Hessian  boots, 
and  he  appeared  to  be  so  tight  in  both,  that  he  could  hardly 
move.  As  far  as  I  could  judge,  his  legs  had  not  improved 
since  I  had  last  seen  them  in  this  his  favourite  dress. 

'  Mr.  De  Benyon,  I  believe  that  you  have  met  Miss  Temple 
before,'  said  Mr.  Masterton,  winking  at  me.  *  In  Berkshire, 
was  it  not  ?  Miss  Temple,  allow  me  to  introduce  General  De 
Benyon.' 

I  went  up  to  Susannah,  who  coloured  and  trembled  at  the 
sight  of  my  father,  as  I  expressed  my  hope  that  she  had  been 
well  since  we  last  met.  She  perceived  that  there  was  some 
planned  scheme,  and  was  so  puzzled  that  she  said  nothing. 
My  father  then  spoke  to  her,  and  after  a  short  time  took  a 
chair,  and  seated  himself  close  to  her.  I  never  knew  her 
make  herself  so  agreeable.  He  asked  her  where  she  was 
staying,  and  when  he  heard  that  it  was  with  Mr.  Cophagus, 
he  said  that  he  should  have  the  pleasure  of  calling  upon  Mr. 

396 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Cophagus,  and  thank  him  for  his  kind  information  relative  to 
me.  Shortly  afterwards  Cophagus  took  his  leave,  and  Susannah 
rose  to  accompany  him,  when  my  father,  hearing  that  they 
had  walked,  insisted  upon  putting  Miss  Temple  down  in  his 
carriage.  So  that  Mr.  Cophagus  had  to  walk  home  one  way, 
and  I  the  other. 


CHAPTER    LXXIX 

Poor  Cophagus  finds  an  end  to  his  adventures  by  the  means  of  a  mad 
bull ;  I,  of  mine,  by  matrimony — Father  is  prettily  behaved,  and  my 
Quaker  wife  the  most  fashionably  dressed  lady  in  town — Verily  ! 
hum  ! 

ALAS  !  little  did  Mr.  Cophagus  know  how  fatal  to  him  would 
be  the  light  cotton  nets  when  he  put  them  on  that  day.  He 
had  proceeded,  as  it  appears,  about  two -thirds  of  his  way 
home  (he  lived  in  Welbeck  Street),  when  he  perceived  a  rush 
from  up  a  street  leading  into  Oxford  Street,  He  looked  to 
ascertain  the  cause,  when  to  his  horror  he  perceived — what  to 
him  was  the  greatest  of  all  horrors — a  mad  bull.  If  anything 
could  make  Mr.  Cophagus  run,  it  was  a  sight  like  that,  and 
he  did  run  ;  but  he  could  not  run  fast  in  his  cotton  nets  and 
tight  Hessians,  which  crippled  him  altogether.  As  if  out  of 
pure  spite,  the  bull  singled  him  out  from  at  least  one  hundred, 
who  exerted  their  agility,  and  again  was  poor  Mr.  Cophagus 
tossed  far  behind  the  animal,  fortunately  breaking  his  fall  by 
tumbling  on  a  large  dog  who  was  in  full  chase.  The  dog, 
who  was  unable  to  crawl  from  beneath  the  unfortunate 
Cophagus,  was  still  in  a  condition  to  bite,  which  he  did  most 
furiously  ;  and  the  butcher,  who  had  an  affection  for  his  dog, 
when  he  perceived  its  condition,  also  vented  his  fury  upon 
poor  Cophagus,  by  saluting  him  with  several  blows  on  his 
head  with  his  cudgel.  What  between  the  bull,  the  dog,  and 
the  butcher,  poor  Mr.  Cophagus  was  taken  into  a  shop  in  a 
very  deplorable  condition.  After  some  time  he  recovered  and 
was  able  to  name  his  residence,  when  he  was  taken  home. 

It  was  late  in  the  evening  when   I  received  a  note  from 
Susannah,  informing  me   of  that   unfortunate   accident.      My 

397 


JAPPIET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

father  had  just  finished  a  long  story  about  filial  duty,  country 
girls,  good  wives,  etc.,  and  had  wound  up  by  saying,  that  he 
and  Mr.  Masterton  both  considered  that  Miss  Temple  would 
be  a  very  eligible  match,  and  that,  as  I  had  requested  him  to 
select,  he  had  selected  her  accordingly.  I  had  just  proved 
how  truly  dutiful  I  was,  by  promising  to  do  all  I  could  to  love 
her,  and  to  fulfil  his  wishes,  when  the  note  was  put  in  my 
hands.  I  read  it,  stated  its  contents  to  my  father,  and,  with 
his  permission,  immediately  jumped  into  a  hackney-coach,  and 
drove  to  Welbeck  Street. 

On  my  arrival  I  found  poor  Mrs.  Cophagus  in  a  state  of 
syncope,  and  Susannah  attending  her.  I  sent  for  the  surgeon 
who  had  been  called  in,  and  then  went  up  to  Mr.  Cophagus. 
He  was  much  better  than  I  expected — calm,  and  quite  sensible. 
His  wounds  had  been  dressed  by  the  surgeon,  but  he  did  not 
appear  to  be  aware  of  the  extent  of  the  injury  he  had  received. 
When  the  surgeon  came  I  questioned  him.  He  informed  me 
that  although  much  hurt,  he  did  not  consider  that  there  was 
any  danger  to  be  apprehended  ;  there  were  no  bones  broken  ; 
the  only  fear  that  he  had  was,  that  there  might  be  some 
internal  injury  ;  but  at  present  that  could  not  be  ascertained. 
I  thanked  him,  and  consoled  Mrs.  Cophagus  with  this  infor- 
mation. I  then  returned  to  her  husband,  who  shook  his 
head,  and  muttered,  as  I  put  my  ear  down  to  hear  him, 
'  Thought  so — come  to  London — full  of  mad  bulls — tossed — 
die — and  so  on.5 

'  Oh  no  ! '  replied  I,  '  the  surgeon  says  that  there  is  no 
danger.  You  will  be  up  in  a  week — but  now  you  must  keep 
very  quiet.  I  will  send  Mrs.  Cophagus  to  you.' 

I  went  out ;  and  finding  her  composed,  I  desired  her  to 
go  to  her  husband,  who  wished  to  see  her,  and  I  was  left 
alone  with  Susannah.  I  told  her  all  that  had  passed,  and 
after  two  delightful  hours  had  escaped,  I  returned  home  to  the 
hotel.  My  father  had  waited  up  for  some  time,  and  finding 
that  I  did  not  return,  had  retired.  When  I  met  him  the  next 
morning,  I  mentioned  what  the  surgeon  had  said  ;  but  stated 
that,  in  my  opinion,  there  was  great  cause  for  alarm  in  a  man 
of  Mr.  Cophagus's  advanced  age.  My  father  agreed  with  me  ; 
but  could  not  help  pointing  out  what  a  good  opportunity  this 
would  afford  for  my  paying  my  attentions  to  Miss  Temple,  as 
it  was  natural  that  I  should  be  interested  about  so  old  a  friend 

399 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

as  Mr.  Cophagus.  My  filial  duty  inclined  me  to  reply,  that  I 
should  certainly  avail  myself  of  such  a  favourable  opportunity. 

My  adventures  are  now  drawing  to  a  close.  I  must  pass 
over  three  months,  during  which  my  father  had  taken  and 
furnished  a  house  in  Grosvenor  Square  ;  and  I,  whenever  I 
could  spare  time,  had,  under  the  auspices  of  Lord  Windermear, 
again  been  introduced  into  the  world  as  Mr.  De  Benyon.  I 
found  that  the  new  name  was  considered  highly  respectable  ; 
my  father's  hall  tables  were  loaded  with  cards  ;  and  I  even 
received  two  dinner  invitations  from  Lady  Maelstrom,  who 
told  me  how  her  dear  nieces  had  wondered  what  had  become 
of  me,  and  that  they  were  afraid  that  Louisa  would  have  fallen 
into  a  decline.  And  during  these  three  months  Cecilia  and 
Susannah  had  been  introduced,  and  had  become  as  inseparable 
as  most  young  ladies  are,  who  have  a  lover  apiece,  and  no 
cause  for  jealousy.  Mr.  Cophagus  had  so  far  recovered  as  to 
be  able  to  go  down  into  the  country,  vowing,  much  to  the 
chagrin  of  his  wife,  that  he  never  would  put  his  foot  in  London 
again.  He  asked  me  whether  I  knew  any  place  where  there 
were  no  mad  bulls,  and  I  took  some  trouble  to  find  out,  but 
I  could  not ;  for  even  if  he  went  to  the  North  Pole,  although 
there  were  no  bulls,  yet  there  were  bull  bisons  and  musk  bulls, 
which  were  even  more  savage.  Upon  which  he  declared  that 
this  was  not  a  world  to  live  in  ;  and  to  prove  that  he  was 
sincere  in  his  opinion,  poor  fellow,  about  three  months  after 
his  retirement  into  the  country,  he  died  from  a  general  decay, 
arising  from  the  shock  produced  on  his  system.  But  before 
these  three  months  had  passed,  it  had  been  finally  arranged 
that  Harcourt  and  I  were  to  be  united  on  the  same  day ;  and 
having  renewed  my  acquaintance  with  the  good  bishop  whom 
I  had  taxed  with  being  my  father,  he  united  us  both  to  our 
respective  partners.  My  father  made  over  to  me  the  sum 
which  he  had  mentioned.  Mr.  Masterton  gave  Susannah  ten 
thousand  pounds,  and  her  own  fortune  amounted  to  as  much 
more,  with  the  reversion  of  Mr.  Cophagus's  property  at  the 
decease  of  his  widow.  Timothy  came  up  to  the  wedding,  and 
I  formally  put  him  in  the  possession  of  my  shop  and  stock-in- 
trade,  and  he  has  now  a  flourishing  business.  Although  he 
has  not  yet  found  his  mother,  he  has  found  a  very  pretty  wife, 
which  he  says  does  quite  as  well,  if  not  better. 

Let  it  not  be  supposed  that  I  forgot  the  good  services  of 
400 


JAPHET,  IN  SEARCH  OF  A  FATHER 

Kathleen — who  was  soon  after  married  to  Corny.  A  small 
farm  on.Fleta's  estate  was  appropriated  to  them,  at  so  low  a 
rent,  that  in  a  few  years  they  were  able  to  purchase  the 
property  ;  and  Corny,  from  a  leveller,  as  soon  as  he  was  com- 
fortable, became  one  of  the  Government's  firmest  supporters. 

I  am  now  living  in  the  same  house  with  my  father,  who  is 
very  happy,  and  behaves  pretty  well.  He  is  seldom  in  a 
passion  more  than  twice  a  week,  which  we  consider  as  miracu- 
lous. Now  that  I  am  writing  this,  he  has  his  two  grand- 
children on  his  knees.  Mrs.  Cophagus  has  married  a  captain 
in  the  Life  Guards,  and  as  far  as  fashion  and  dress  are 
concerned,  may  be  said  to  be  l  going  the  whole  hog.'  And 
now,  as  I  have  no  doubt  that  my  readers  will  be  curious  to 
know  whether  my  lovely  wife  adheres  to  her  primitive  style  of 
dress,  I  shall  only  repeat  a  conversation  of  yesterday  night,  as 
she  came  down  arrayed  for  a  splendid  ball  given  by  Mrs. 
Harcourt  de  Clare. 

'  Tell  me  now,  De  Benyon,'  said  she,  '  is  not  this  a  pretty 
dress  ? ' 

*  Yes,  my  dear,'  replied  I,  looking  at   her  charming  face 
and  figure  with  all  the  admiration  usual  in  the  honeymoon, 
*  it  is  indeed ;  but  do  you  not  think,  my  dear  Susan,'  said  I, 
putting  the  tip  of  my  white  glove  upon  her  snowy  shoulder, 
'  that  it  is  cut  down  a  little  too  low  ? ' 

*  Too  low,   De  Benyon  !  why  it's  not  half  so  low  as  Mrs. 
Harcourt  De  Clare  or  Lady  C wear  their  dresses.' 

'Well,  my  dear,  I  did  not  assert  that  it  was.  I  only 
asked.' 

'  Well,  then,  if  you  only  asked  for  information,  De  Benyon, 
I  will  tell  you  that  it  is  not  too  low,  and  I  think  you  will 
acknowledge  that  on  this  point  my  opinion  ought  to  be 
decisive ;  for,  if  I  have  no  other  merit,  I  have  at  least  the 
merit  of  being  the  best-dressed  woman  in  London.' 

'  Verily  thou  persuadest  me,  Susannah,'  replied  I. 

'  Now,  De  Benyon,  hold  your  tongue.' 

Like  a  well -disciplined  husband,  I  bowed,  and  said  no 
more.  And  now,  having  no  more  to  say,  I  shall  also  make 
my  bow  to  my  readers,  and  bid  them  farewell. 


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